


Achilles Come Down

by inkslinger_outlaw



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anger Management, Bipolar Disorder, Codependency, Depression, Digital Art, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Issues, Identity, Identity Issues, Learning Disabilities, Lies, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Other, Papyrus (Undertale) Knows More Than He Lets On, Papyrus (Undertale) Remembers Resets, Papyrus (Undertale)-centric, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness, Resentment, Sans (Undertale) Remembers Resets, Science Experiments, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Smoking, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Timelines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27192493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkslinger_outlaw/pseuds/inkslinger_outlaw
Summary: "We lie to each other a lot," I say casually.Sans' lazy smile fades to nothing. "Bro, wha-""But, honestly? I don't think I could stop even if I wanted to." That's all I say before leaving him where he stands, confused and with his soul beating out of his chest.Two brothers in a standoff. Their entire relationship wrapped in lies and unspoken misery. Someone has to crack eventually.Or shatter.
Relationships: None
Comments: 121
Kudos: 143





	1. Radio Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So, for those still around to remember me, I'm back. I've missed writing and I've been struggling to convince myself to get back into writing again. My new coping mechanism has been theatre. I'm in a place where I think I can start writing again, at least. Getting mental help, meds and doing theatre has been. An amazing experience to say the least. I'm not all, you know, cured of my problems as is to be expected. But this is the most stable I've been since I was 11. 2020 has been the best year for me personally in my life. Everything else aside.  
> Anyways.  
> It's been. Quite a long time now since posting anything. Years. So, I suppose this is my comeback work. I hope it's better than what I used to write and hopefully yall will like it. And by my willpower I will finish this one. My willpower has gotten everything else done so here's hoping
> 
> Achilles Come Down - Gang Of Youths

Papyrus should really invest in a radio or something. At least he wouldn't have to think so much

_________________________________

The kitchen is quiet and dark when I step into it. Reaching the stove I unceremoniously flip on the overhead light. I'd rather not wake Sans up. It’s not as if he doesn’t know I don't sleep much. 

Grab the coffee pot. 

It’s certainly never been a pressing matter to him. 

Fill it up to eight cups with water.  


Early to bed, early to rise right? It’d be a different tune if he knew I laid there and stared at nothing for hours. Or that I snuck out every other night. 

Pour into the back of the machine. 

It’s not as if I had to. I'm an adult. 

Pop open the filter section and scoop in grounds. 

Suspicion is the last thing I want, though. 

Press brew and wait. 

I blink and sigh softly.

It doesn’t even matter that I’m quiet or not. Sans wouldn’t wake up if I took every single piece of dishware in the house and smashed it right now. Which is a blessing and a curse. Some nights I wish he’d hear me crying. Some nights I wish he’d hear the window or front door open and ask me where I’m going. Ask me if everything is ok… I’d tell him no, maybe, and then. Well. I’m not sure. He’d blame himself probably. Too bad he’s passed out drunk just about every night.

My elbows hurt a little as I lean on the counter and put my skull in my hands.

And it’s not as if he’s a terrible drunk. He’s not mean. He doesn’t shout. He doesn’t anything of that nature. He’s the happiest I ever see him when he drinks. How sad… 

I let out a small, humorless laugh at the fact.

So I say nothing. Do nothing. I get him from Grillby’s five or six or seven days out of the week. Never lower than five. I apologize for any unfortunate behavior and Grillby just waves me off. It’s a bar. He’s seen worse, of course. Still… Then. 

I stare off.

Then he gives me this look I can’t decipher. Pity? Slight humor maybe? Maybe not. Most likely not that. Concern? All of the above or something else entirely. It seems like he wants to say something to me every time he sees me, but stops himself. It’s not as if it matters. I know Sans has a problem. I know he drinks himself into a stupor or worse most nights. I know! I know. But…

I dig my fingers into my skull a little.

If it really makes him happy? Should I stop him? What right do I have anyways? Because I’m his brother? I scoff at myself a little. I’m just as messed up as he is. Why should I tell him to stop.

I pull one of my hands away from my skull. A fine amount of dust covers my fingers. I guess I was digging harder than I thought. What a surprise. I suppose I’ll be wearing a hat for the foreseeable future. I can heal the hurt, but it will scar despite that.

I love him. I love my brother so, so damn much. I don’t want him to hurt. I don’t want him to hurt _himself_. It kills me inside to see him crumbling before my eyes, and I stand motionless, unable to do anything. I could confront him. To what end, though? What purpose.

_“I’m fine, bro.”_

_“You worry too much. I’m the older brother here. That’s my job.”_

_“Oh, come on, Paps. I’m just havin’ a good time.”_

_“It’s fine.”_

Then he’ll- he’ll give me that smile. That lazy, fake smile that makes me want to cry and break something simultaneously. I clench my hands resting on the sides of my skull. It’s so fake and it infuriates me. Sometimes it makes me want to punch him because why won’t he just _talk_ to me!

I… I never would. Hit him, that is. I shouldn’t even think that, but…

I groan and stare straight out of the window into the backyard.

I know why he won’t talk to me. It’s my own fault when I think about it, really.

**_Be good. Do as you're told. Don’t give your brother any trouble. Don’t upset him. Keep him happy. And remember. I love you, Papyrus._**

Well. Maybe not entirely my fault.

So that’s what I did. I listened to my father because that’s what you’re supposed to do. Because I loved my father and love my brother. I did as I was told. And it’s what I still do today. I take care of everything and try to keep Sans happy because he’s had enough to deal with since he’s been a child. As good as that does me. He's just about never happy. I stayed silent about my deteriorating mental state and woes so he wouldn’t be upset. And I never did anything in front of anyone that could have been perceived as 'bad’ so he wouldn’t be stressed.

Could I have stopped pretending? Stopped stifling myself for Sans’ sake? 

Probably. 

I look down at the counter.

No… 

So then who’s actually at fault. Me? Our father? Maybe we both hold equal blame. I made a choice after all.

(Did I really have one to begin with?)

And that choice is killing me. It’s been killing me. My whole life. It’s not as if I didn’t have problems as a child. It’s not as if I didn’t become mentally unwell. But Sans… Sans always took precedence over me. The smartest. The oldest. The most like our father. The one that mattered. The one who got all the help from our father for as long as it could be provided. You know, before… Well.

I grimace.

And I suppose I’m very resentful about it. 

I stare outside at the black trees. The moonlight sparkling the snow. And I glare.

I resent our father who turned me into a smiling wind up doll. I resent the fact that I let him. I resent the fact that I kept doing it and doing it until it was a permanent state of being.

Do I resent Sans?

My face turns somber.

I could. I do sometimes… How can I, though? He’s severely mentally unwell. He always has been. Panic attacks. Seeing and hearing things that aren’t there. Crippling depression. I could go on. 

I'd rather not.

I do resent he’s never seen me for truly me. Has never been there for me in a way that matters. 

Can I really blame him? I’d never shown him who I am.

Sometimes I wonder if what he sees and what he hears were actually the future.

Does he see or hear them anymore? Having lived them time and again? He must. He certainly has some kind ptsd. Maybe cptsd. He certainly still shows the signs of not quite being here sometimes. And sometimes I don’t remember where I am either after it all. When I am.

I tap my fingers against my cheek bone.

The timelines. The resets. His episodes weren’t always terrifying things for him. He'd see happy things. Talk of the sun and the stars and the sky. Speak of monsters we’d never heard of. Talk about a human child… We’ve made it to the surface before. And then it’d reset just like that. That always did make me wonder, those happy visions no one else could see… There are monsters who have been known to have second sight. But nothing as dramatic or insightful as what Sans sees. Nothing of true importance. I can only assume they were visions of the future. Multiple futures.

Regardless.

I look over at the coffee pot tiredly. It stopped brewing at some point. I guess I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to notice. I make a cup and slouch over at the kitchen table. 

I hate my reality.

I hate pretending.

I hate myself.

But I can’t stop being who I’m known to be. Because it’s all for Sans. It’s always for Sans. And I suppose it’s to protect myself even if it hurts me.

I love my brother dearly and I suppose if I have to hate myself and be miserable then so be it. 

I have two more cups of coffee before knocking back my morning pills that keep me somewhat stable.

Just another thing Sans doesn’t know about.

I toss my cup in the sink angrily. It shatters on impact.

It doesn’t matter. 

Sans doesn’t stir.

It’s fine.

He’ll see the mess and think nothing of it.

That’s okay too.

I yank my boots, sweater and hat on before going on my normal morning run. Sometimes it helps. Honestly I just do it for the sake of routine now. I always need something occupying me. 

I’m not like Sans.

I need to move. I need to work. I need to have the bills set in order. I need to, I need to, I need to. 

Because I have to.

I’m not allowed to not function.

I don’t get that option like Sans does.

_“You worry too much. I’m the older brother here. That’s my job.”_

I scoff.

“What a crock,” I mumble.

The door slams on my way out.

I light a cigarette and start walking.

I hope the door woke his hungover ass up if anything.


	2. Flames On the Side of My Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cracks begin to show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for clicking on this! I'm glad at least a few of you like it :3

I’m huffing by the time I get back to the house. I ran longer than usual, trying to work off my anger. I look at the front door in trepidation. 

Is Sans home? 

What mood will he be in? 

Do I have to act? 

I make sure my pack of smokes is hidden in my pants pocket before I go inside. No noise. I can’t tell just from that, though. Nothing seems out of place. Not unusual. Sans doesn’t do much before he goes and… continues to not do much. Don’t think about it.

I return to the kitchen where I bleakly started my day. Ceramic shards and crumbs are still in the sink. Still tells me nothing. I grab the dish gloves and start cleaning the sink of its shattered cup. I may hurt myself every now and again, but I try to not do it in such obvious places. Though it is something explained off easily. Clumsy Papyrus! I toss some shards with particular aggression into the trash. 

“Jeez, bro. What’d the cup do to ya?”

I jump and nearly scream, grabbing my chest.

“SANS!” I lean over the sink and try to catch my breath.

“Papyrus!” He parrots. “You okay? I didn’t think I’d scare ya like that.”

I clench my eyes tightly and then reopen them. Microsecond nightmares flash. I was never this frightful before all of the resets and murders and- I shake my head out of it.

“I’m fine, Sans! I was washing my cup a bit too passionately this morning!” Sans takes a seat at the table and nods. 

“Careful, one of these days you’re gonna passionately destroy every dish in the house. And wouldn’t that be a _crash_ tastrophe.”

I groan.

“Sans, that wasn’t even good,” I say in a half joking manner and in a manner of genuine irritation. “Well, I’ll be sure to be more gently passionate in the future!” Sans keeps sitting there while I clean the sink out. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t joke. It’s getting on my nerves. I turn and look at him.

“Are you… waiting on something? Am I in your way?” I’m toeing a line here with my tone of voice.

He leans back into the chair.

“Nah. Just thinkin’.”

I huff a little and lean against the counter.

“About?” I question. Bad move.

“Dunno’. You just seem…” Shit. I seem what? Have I been slipping? “More agitated lately?” 

So now he’s all of a sudden observant? Stars.

“Well! I can assure you that that’s not the case! I am acting as I normally do!” It’s not a lie. In actuality it’s the plain truth. Sans frowns a little. Unusual for him. He hasn’t frowned in my direction for any reset because I’m always the same. As he is always the same. He never worries and he never thinks to because I give him no reason to. He thinks I’m oblivious and knows nothing. I'd prefer it to stay that way. Because it’s what I’m supposed to do. I find it near impossible to be slipping up now after so long. I've done this my whole life. It’s second nature to me.

Though… I am just so tired.

Sans shrugs a bit. “Sure thing, Paps.” A silence stretches as we stalemate. I peer at him, successfully hiding my panic. Or what I hope is successfully. It’s not a strain to make my face do what I want it to. “You’d tell me if somethin’ was wrong, right?”

And what a question _that_ is. 

I’ve heard him ask it only a handful of times when I was a child. When I couldn’t control myself so much.

I always told him I was fine. Something snaps inside me for a second and-

I feel a sudden flash of hot anger and in the split second I can’t quell it Sans must see something in my face because he looks at me even harder. He asks now? After all this time? After every reset? After everything that’s ever happened? Would I tell him?! I’d rather die first. I’m not even capable of speaking of it even if I wanted to.

And yet…

And then the words are out before I can stop them. Sharp and angry. “Would _you_ tell me?”

We both stare at each other in surprise. His eye lights are pinpricks and I’m sure I reflect that. 

I just screwed up massively. 

Once more a deafening silence. Neither of us know how to react. It’s as if the center of me has dropped all the way to my feet.

Stupid! Why did I do that!

“I-“

“Papyr-“

We both speak and both stop simultaneously. 

Sans breaks first.

“Of course I would tell you. You’re my bro. We're family.” He’s as smooth a liar as I am. “Why wouldn’t I talk to you?”

Rage. Burning through my bones. Simmering inside me!

I clench my hands as hard as I can on the edge of the counter. I feel a slight give.

“But, you don’t,” I point out quickly. “You _never_ do. You never tell me a single thing!” It’s like my mouth is running on autopilot. “Your depression, your pain, your-!” And as if a wall shoots up in front of me, I stop.

Sans looks absolutely shell shocked. 

My breathing comes in shallowly. I feel like I can’t even move. This is bad. This is so bad, I can’t-. 

He’ll remember this. He’ll remember this moment where I let a crack appear as small as it is. Even if we reset-…

“I. I have to go to work. You should also get ready, but I’m meeting Undyne beforehand, so I have to leave now.” Another lie. I’m not sure if it’s a believable one considering what just transpired.

“Papyrus! Wait a second!”

I’m already out of the door by the time Sans can gather the thought. I start running. My eyes sting as they gather tears and the wind lashes against them.

Don’t upset you brother  
_Don’t upset your brother  
**DON’T UPSET YOUR BROTHER**_

I leave a cracked and indented counter in my wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time and comment ✌🤙
> 
> Achilles Come Down - Gang Of Youths


	3. With Friends Like These

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A truthful relationship if nothing else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ill be trying to add more art

I eventually collapse to a stop in an abandoned part of waterfall. I pant heavily and hunch over, my skull touching the ground. 

Why did I do that.  
Why did I _do_ that?

How could I lose control like that? Get angry, shout at my brother? I'm such a disappointment. I betrayed our father. I-. I cover my sockets with my hands and try to hold in my tears. Small whines make their way out of me as I hiccup a little. 

_Fuck_. 

“Crying again?” 

I gasp and scramble to move away, ending up on my ass. I look over and groan. “Flowey! Damnit, what're you doing here? You scared me half to death!”

“What? I can’t see my best friend?” I wipe my sockets as best I can. My arm rests on the knee I prop up and I glare at him. “Besides, you’re already half dead.” I scowl at him for bringing it up.

“Are you still on about that?” Flowey pops up closer to me and rests against my leg.

“Aw, come on, Papyrus. Of course I am. I’m the only one you actually talk to.” I sigh and look off. “And I’d think you’d at least care a little about falling down.”

“Yeah. Well…” I shakily pull out a cigarette and light it. “How sad for me, right?” I release a stream of smoke and lean back on my arms.

“Well, now you’re just being insulting. And self depreciating,” he pouts. “It’s not a good look.” He grows his stalk a little so he can drape over my leg and look at me. “So, what happened? Your trashbag brother again?” 

I scowl, “Don’t talk about him like that.” I go to adjust my jacket and- Oh. Right. I ran out of the door like a teenager without grabbing anything. “…I slipped up. I got pissed off and yelled at him.”

Flowey seems shocked, which I take at least a little pride in. Not that I should considering I’m definitely still freaking out. Just internally. Like every emotion I push down.

“That’s great!” I stare at him for a moment and frown. 

“ _Excuse_ me?” I ask, irritation apparent.

“Just what I said, silly! It’s been so long since you’ve done anything off script. You were getting boring.”

I groan and try to push him off like our stupid dog, but he just wraps a vine around my leg. I give up easily. I don’t have the energy for any of this right now.

“Do you understand the consequences of what happened?” Not that he cares, but I need someone to vent to. “He’s going to _remember_ that! Forever! Now I have to try and fix it and I don’t know how!” Flowey continues to stare at me and I glare back. “I’ve never exposed my anger towards him like that. I screwed up.”

“You worry about such stupid things. I don’t understand it.” I pinch the area between my eye sockets and nasal cavity in annoyance. “So what if you got mad at him? Siblings fight all the time.”

“Sans and I _don’t_.” I look down at the ground and burn holes into it. “We don’t do things like that.” 

“You don’t ‘ _do things like that_ ’, because you lie constantly. I mean, you both do, but Sans has never had a problem getting mad at you before.” 

“Yeah. I know…”

“You’re the cause of your own suffering if you ask me.”

“I _know_!” A vine reaches out and tilts my face up.

“Do you **like** it or something? Do you **get off** on hurting yourself like this?” I jerk my jaw out of his hold.

“It’s what I’m supposed to do. You know that already.” 

“Oh, right. Your daddy issues.” He rolls his eyes and moves to lay against my chest.

“You know, for a complete psychopathic bastard you sure are touchy feely.”

“Hm.” We both turn silent and just exist next to each other for a while. 

If I'm perfectly honest, I shouldn’t even be near him. He did a lot of damage timeline after timeline. Again and again repeating until it drove me half mad. It was torture. And yet here we are. Involved in some strange form of friendship if you can call it that. Maybe it’s because he never hurt Sans because he could never catch him. Maybe I’m just that desperate for a real connection to someone. Or I suppose something in Floweys case. 

I always wondered what it would be like to have real friends. All the friends I ever had didn’t know me. The friends I have don’t know me. My brother has no idea who I am. It’s really not fair to him. I know almost wholly who he is. Do I really know how he feels inside, though? Do I know how much he actually suffers? Do I know him that well?

Floweys’ resets and loads were how I found out that Sans actually remembers them. I thought it was just me at first. And then he asked me a weird question about time. If I ever lost time. If I ever had intense feelings of déjà vu. I suppose he was trying to open up to me… But I shut it down. I didn’t want him to know that I knew. I isolated him on purpose because I still have a job to do. He can’t know I’m suffering. 

Break my facade and have severe trust and emotional ramifications or isolate my brother and let him suffer with it alone. Which is the worst option? I’m just trying to protect him…

Our whole relationship is a lie. Stars, I love him, but… How much can you really love someone if you don’t know them? 

It’s a horrible thought. And I hate myself for thinking it.

I hate myself.  
I hate myself.  
I hate myself… And I wish I didn’t exist. 

I carefully lay back and put a hand over Flowey. At least this connection I have. An honest one even if it’s not one of anything else. 

I feel so tired of it all…

I look at my watch. I can fit in a small nap, I guess. Then I have to meet with Undyne so my lie seems like the truth. Maybe I’ll just tell Sans I snapped because I wasn’t feeling well? I’ll figure something out, I guess. I always do.

The luminescence of the surrounding foliage lulls me to sleep.

Just a small nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tune in next time and comment 🤙
> 
> Achilles Come Down - Gang Of Youths


	4. I'm Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oof. I grant that confrontation one yike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today's art is 2edgy5me  
> What do you do

I wake up with my skull feeling fuzzy. Jeez it’s cold… I groggily check my watch and-

“Shit!”

I jerk upright and stand shakily. I'm still half asleep. Flowey's gone already. I rub my sockets and groan. I missed my entire shift. I actually slept. God…

Okay, okay. Evaluate. I missed work. I made an obvious lie to Sans. If Sans actually did his job he might have noticed I was gone. That’s an easy thing to lie about. Recalibrating puzzles. Patrolling in another area. I don’t know if Undyne noticed I wasn’t there. Especially since I don’t even work today. That’s bad. I also don’t know if Sans cared enough to ask her. I don’t have all of the variables.

This isn’t good to say the least.

Okay. Well, fuck. Don’t bring it up. Don’t draw attention to it and no one else will. I let out a sigh and start the trek back to Snowdin. Damn I wish I had my jacket…

Frosty wind is biting against me by the time I make it to the outskirts of town.

Okay, just a mile until I get home.

The rest of my walk is silent. The only sounds accompanying me are nature and my footsteps crunching in the show. It’s dark out now. Sans probably won’t be home. If that’s the case then I don’t have to stress about it. If he asks where I was then I was doing extra patrols for Undyne. I have to keep up the royal guard shtick. Would the extra money be nice? Yes.

But… it’s just so much extra work I can’t handle. I’d rather stick with my ‘Unofficial Royal Guard’ job. It pays, somehow, and keeps me occupied. Besides, I know Undyne won’t give me the job. I won’t let her. I play dumb, untalented Papyrus well. All of that would just be too much. And I- I just don’t have that much control anymore.

Emotionally unstable monsters have unstable magic. So I use as little as I can when I can. I suppose it doesn’t bother me so much looking like a useless idiot. I always look like that. Not as good as magic as Sans. Not as good as math or science as Sans. Slower to pick things up. Slower to learn them…

I really was always a disappointment. Why am I thinking about this shit right now. Knock it off. I hate that my mind jumps around like this.

I clench my fists and turn the last corner. And… Sans is leaning against the front door.

I stop short.

Welp. That’s… Unfortunate. And weird. Why’s he home already? He should be out right now.

I close the distance between us and stand in front of him. He looks at me, mouth set in a straight line. Is he mad? He seems mad.

“Brother! I’m surprised to see you home!”

“Yeah. Same.” He scuffs his slipper against the porch.

There’s an uncomfortable pause I’m dying, hahah, to break, but Sans beats me to it.

“So… uh, where were you today?” He stares at me and I am. Extremely uncomfortable.

“What do you mean? I was working, of course!” His brow twitches a little.

“You were working this late? Papyrus, it’s eight at night. Our shifts end at four.”

It’s still fine. I can get out of this. Just remember what was decided. “I was doing an extra patrol shift! If I want to get into the guard then I have to put in the time!”

Sans frowns even more if that’s possible and now I’m getting nervous. “Well. That’s funny considering I called Undyne. Because, you know. You were so angry you broke the counter this mornin’. And ran out like death was on your heels.” Sans crosses his arms. I shove my hands into my pockets. “And, as a concerned brother, wanted to check in. See if you were alright. Imagine my surprise when she didn’t see ya all day. Which is extra funny considerin' you said you had to see her before shift.”

Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic

“I couldn’t find her this morning is all! I stopped by her house then looked for a while and then I started my patrol when I couldn’t find her!”

“Mhm.” His eye lights flicker and I tense up. “That’s bullshit.” What. “She was home all day. Sick. Didn’t hear anyone come by. Didn’t know what I was talkin’ about.” No no no. Oh no. “You weren’t even supposed to work today.”

Fuck.

“She must have forgotten about us meeting. Or she was asleep and didn’t hear me knock!” This is fine. I can fix it. Just like I fix everything. “And I told you, I’m taking extra patrol to show my determination of getting into the guard!”

Sans clenches his fists and purses his mouth. “Why are you _lyin’_ to me? I just wanna know. What _possible_ reason you have to be damn _lying_ to my _face_ right now.”

I glare at sans and stare down at him. “I am _not_ lying. I **never** lie to you! How can you say that?!” I know I lie to him all the time, but I’m genuinely angry. I lie to him, but Papyrus doesn’t. I’m angry on behalf of that part of me. I’m a mess. It doesn’t even make sense how I exist with these parts of me.

“You **are** lying to me! All the patrols were taken! You didn’t pick up anyone’s patrols! There’s three people on patrol and the monsters who’re goin’ to patrol them are, guess what, patrolling them!” Sans is so close to me now. His hands are clenched at his sides and his eyes lights are completely out. Mine are getting there.

“And how do you know I wasn’t patrolling somewhere _else_! Are you psychic?!”

“NO! IT’S BECAUSE I WAS TURNIN’ STONES OVER TRYIN' TO FIND YOU! WHERE WERE YOU?!”

I can’t stop it. “NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS, SANS!”

We both stop and just look at each other. Our eyes are both pitch black and Sans is shaking slightly. I unclench my fists and slouch. I never swear… Correction, Papyrus doesn’t swear. He never, ever, ever swears. How do I keep fucking up like this?

“Wh-…” He clutches his hoodie close to him. “None of my _damn_ business? That’s what I get for carin’ about you? None of my damn business…” He pulls his hood up and looks down. “What’s wrong with you today? Yellin' at me. **Swearing** at me? Breakin’ the counter!”

What am I supposed to say? I feel completely frozen. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I feel as if I lost my voice.

“Did I _do_ somethin’? If I did just **tell** me, Papyrus. You’re my brother, _I love you_! I don’t want to hurt you.” And he sounds like he might cry.

And I’m just the worst monster in existence, huh? I’m- I'm… I hate myself.

“No, I just… I’m sorry. I’m tired. I should go to bed.” My voice is flat and I can’t help it. And I hate myself for it. I step forward and Sans doesn’t move for a moment, still wanting to say something. He just looks at me with hollow eyes and moves. I go inside quickly and run up to my room.

“Shit,” I whisper. I’m in the middle of my room and clutch at my skull. “Why why why why why-“ I breathing comes in short bursts and I trip on the way to my desk. I open the top drawer and take out a chisel and hammer. I know how to fix it. This will fix it. I fix things. That’s what I do. I’ll calm down and think clearly.

I yank my shirt off and lay my arm out the desk. There’s chips and cracks everywhere. They’re only a week old.

Place the chisel tip against my arm. Clench my fist. Bring the hammer down swiftly and-

“Uuuugh…” I chip out a larger than normal chunk of bone. Dust and plasma fall out of my arm and spread out. Too much. Calm down! Okay, okay. I breathe deeply, chiseling and cracking my arm in a few more places before I’m shaking from pain. I drop my tools onto the floor and sit in my computer chair. I blankly look over the damage and sigh.

Cleaning all this up is going to suck. Maybe I can push it off until tomorrow…

I set my tools back in my desk and close the drawer gently. I was quiet enough to not get caught. Really though I don’t ever do this with Sans home. I have no idea if he’s in the house or not. Honestly I couldn’t care less right now. Let him catch me. What does it matter anymore... I shake my head. I have to take care of him. It does matter. I just… I wish someone was here for me. And again it’s my own fucking fault. I’m pathetic.

I grab my shirt and wipe the grey and yellow mess off my arm as gently as I can. There’s some blood spots when I pull the shirt away. Ugh, stars. This is the worst part. I sigh and wipe off my desk quickly. I miss a bunch of spots and toss my shirt in my basket without much care. I grab the bandage roll from behind my computer and quickly wrap my arm. It’s tight and messy and not my usual cleanup, but… I throw my pants and boots into the corner of my room and get under my covers.

No bedtime story tonight, I guess… I turn over. I don’t deserve the comfort of it anyways.

I’m supposed to take my pills before bed.

I close my eyes.

I don’t get much sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time and comment 🤙
> 
> Achilles Come Down - Gang Of Youths


	5. UFC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of some not great things
> 
> And hey they did the thing!

We spend the next few weeks avoiding each other. 

Well… I’m avoiding him anyways. I don’t know how to be near him and he doesn’t know how to approach me. I’ve started acting 'normal' again. Well… As normal as I can. I still feel like I’m losing my damn mind. I probably shouldn’t have stopped taking my pills… After that first night of not taking them, I just. Stopped taking them. I always thought they weren’t really helpful, but now I’m considering that that wasn’t the case. I honestly don’t know. I feel like I’m **breaking**.

I know Sans has probably caught me staring off. Looking unhappy. But… maybe not. He hasn’t said anything. I wonder if he notices me at all. Unlikely. He’s been at the bar longer lately… I can’t help but think it’s my fault.

I cross my arms and watch the pot of pasta boil. 

Then there’s the previous fact of him not being around me. I don’t know if he's on to me or if he’s genuinely just… worried or afraid of setting me off again. I don’t like the answer to either of those. And what if he is on to me? What the hell am I supposed to do about that? What if he notices I have issues. Papyrus doesn’t have problems. He never has problems. Papyrus is all of these things I’m not. I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore. Are these sides of me both Papyrus? I started thinking of ‘Papyrus’ as a separate entity a long time ago. But aren’t I Papyrus? Stars… That’s enough of that. I’m going to give myself an aneurysm.

I slide my oven mitts on and start picking up the pot to go drain it and the world 

_**Stutters** _

_**Stutters** _

_**Stutters** _

I’m completely turned around and confused. I lose my balance. I drop the pot and it bounces against the counter. There’s suddenly boiling hot water all over me and I scream as the pot clatters against the floor.

“ **Son of a bitch**! _Auugh_!” I yank my shirt off and grab the nearest dry cloth to me to get the scalding water off. The chips and fractures in my arms are suddenly so painful I could pass out. The burning water probably doesn’t help.

“Bro! Are you okay?! I heard screami-“ Sans skids to a stop in the kitchen and looks at the scene before him. And… I’m shirtless. Why is he even home! I didn’t see him all day! Did he just use a shortcut and I didn’t notice?! This is bad, this is-

I whip around to try to grab my shirt off of the floor, but I fucking slip in the water and crash onto my spine. 

“Uugh, _damn._ ” I try to get up quickly and end up slipping again. Before my face hits the floor Sans catches me by my arms and god they hurt so much I could cry. I yank of his grip and stand straight crossing my arms. I can feel my panic buzzing in me.

_I’m panicking_   
_I'm panicking_   
_I’m panicking_   
_I’m-_

“Papyrus?” Sans whispers. I stare down at him while he looks up at me. His eye lights are so dim they’re almost gone. “B-Bro-“ He steps towards me and I take one step back. “Papyrus. What… What **the hell’s** that?” It’s not a real question. If he saw what he did then he already knows. If he knows then I _don’t know what to do_.

I don’t know what to do, so I don’t do anything. I don’t talk. I don’t move. I don’t look at him. The floor is far more interesting right now.

“What did ya _do_ to yourself!” he yanks my arms down to his level and I let him. My body is burning and I don’t know if it’s shame or anger or the water. Shame and water seem like the culprit. “Goddamn… Papyrus, I can’t- I don’t-“ My arms are mangled. My chest is messed up too. I say I don’t do it often, but… What do I know. Is it often? What’s the normal amount of hurting yourself. 

I try to pull my arms back, but he doesn’t let go. “ **No**! No, don’t. Don’t leave. Don’t… Run away again.” He inspects my arms up and down, front and back. He’s not exactly being gentle. I grimace a little and just keep looking at the floor. “Papyrus. How long has this been goin’ on?”

I finally yank my arms out of his hold and turn away.

“What do you want me to say, Sans…?” I shove my hands into my pockets to hide their shaking.

“What do I want ya- I _want_ you to talk to me! Just tell me what the **hell’s** goin’ on!” His breathing is heavy and his voice cracks. “Y-Your bones are chipped and cracked and-“ He starts sniffling and I close my sockets. “I should'a known, I should’a _known_ and I didn’t, I didn’t even **notice**! And-and-“ It physically hurts me to hear him so upset.

_**Don't upset your brother** _

“Just t-tell me the **truth**!” Sans let’s out a sob and I clench my sockets and hands tight. “Are you trying to-to _kill y_ ourself?! Or are you- are you going to _lie_ to me again!” 

I let out a slow deep breath and relax my body. Shut it off. Block it off. Repress it.

I can’t tell him. I don’t know _how_ to tell him. How can I even damn well talk about it.

“…You didn’t know because I didn’t want you to. I hid it.” 

**Lies on top of lies on top of lies on top of** -

“That doesn’t answer my- Look, _look_. We can **talk** about this, okay? I ju-just want to help you. I **love** you, Papyrus! Don’t you **kn-know** that?” I turn around and he’s got his smile back, tears still running down his face. Blue as anything from emotional distress. His smile is a barrier that he’s trying to use to comfort me. I hate it.

"We lie to each other a lot," I say casually.

Sans' lazy smile fades to nothing. "Bro, wha-"

"But, honestly? I don't think I could stop even if I wanted to." That's all I say before leaving him where he stands, confused and with his soul beating out of his chest. I can almost feel his magic thrumming. I book it out of the kitchen and head for the stairs, tears welling up in my sockets.

“No! Oh **_hell_** no!” I can hear him scramble behind me and I make it up the first few steps before I’m crashing into Sans. We tumble down the steps and he’s trying to pin me down.

“Cheater! Get _off_ me!” I struggle to get out of the hold he’s got on me and thrash around, crying.

“The **fuck** I am!” I manage to break out of his arms and get up, but he tackles me to the floor.

“Damnit! _Sans_!” I kick him off. He smacks into the railing and groans. _Shit_! 

Assess. Recalibrate. 

I stumble over to him and help him up. “Sans, I’m s-sorry! Are you-“ He starts sobbing again. And it just sets me off harder. I get on my knees in front of him. He’s not even saying anything. “Sans?” I put my hands on his shoulders and he all but crashes into me. Arms securely around my shoulders.

“What did I **d-do**? What’d I do to-to make you do _this_!? What, wh-what is it! I’ll fix it! I **swear** I will! Pl-please, **please** , Papyrus! I’m sorr-sorry, I’m _so fucking sorry_! I-” He just keeps on crying and saying sorry over and over again. I put my arms around him and I’m still crying and _stars_ if this isn’t a completely fucked situation.

This isn’t fixable at this point. It makes me feel strangely hollow with a pain in my chest like nothing else. I just rest my head on top of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time and comment 🤙
> 
> Achilles Come Down - Gang Of Youths


	6. Could You Point Me Out In A Crowded Room?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary uh. Things have been weird and I'm a little discouraged lmao. Anyways I hope you like the art and also the chapter

I stop crying long before Sans. I'm too desensitized to my situation, but this is shocking for my brother. We sit there for a time. Not talking. Just leaning against each other in exhaustion with Sans sniffling intermittently. My skull is fully rested against his as I stare off into the middle distance, unable to get a grasp of myself.

This is **way** too much all at once. This wasn’t supposed to happen at all…

But it _did_ happen. And it’s happening _right now_. And I feel completely shut down at this point because it’s all _too much_. 

Sans shifts and it startles me into sitting up. He grasps my upper arm, prompting me to look down at him. I just. Look at him. I can’t even ask him what he apparently wants. He looks beyond devastated. His face is semi wet with half-dried tears and his skull is flushed with the stress of it all.

He mumbles, “We have’ta talk about this…” My kneejerk response would be to tell him absolutely fucking not. But what am I supposed to do? He wants to know about this, but it’s not like I can tell him the truth. I’ve already fucked up enough as it is. God, he would be better off without me.

 **But would he, really? Who would take care of him? Himself? Laughable**.

I blink and hold back a grimace. It’s not a nice thing to think, but it _is_ true. Maybe… I honestly have no idea what he does without me during some of the resets. Is he okay? Does he go on fine? I’ve never seen it. Obviously. I’ve only seen damage of what happens when I stay alive and others have dusted. I’ve only lived a handful of resets without Sans. 

I don’t like to think about those ones.

“No,” I tell him. He looks like I just kicked him.

“What do you **mean** no? Of _course_ we have'ta talk about this, bro. This is. It’s…” He sounds just so. Tired. I look up at the ceiling and blink a couple times.

“Horrible? Upsetting? Shocking?” This never would have happened if I was more **careful**. I’m such an _i_ _diot_. All this time **wasted** keeping one, singular secret and it’s gone. Just like _that_. “I don’t _want_ to talk about this, Sans. That’s the whole reason I never **told** you in the _first place_.” I sigh softly and stare harder at the ceiling. “You’re making it out to be a bigger deal than it is.”

 **That** was the wrong thing to say.

His voice wavers. “Not a big deal? Not a _big deal_!? Your arms have _craters_ and _valleys_ in ‘em! They're **completely mangled**! I don’t even know how you keep usin’ em!” Magic, of course. Magic and medicine and back alley doctors who don’t make a fuss and don’t care why you’re there as long as you pay them. Besides, they always go back to ‘normal’ each reset. And by normal I mean, of course, with less valleys and craters. “You have’ta be **joking** it’s not a big deal!”

“Well, actually, joking would be _your_ depart-“

“Stop it!” I clack my teeth together. “I can’t believe you’re tryin’ to yuck right now! What is **wrong** with you!?” Well what does he expect, honestly. I already said I don’t want to talk about it. Stars, it’s like watching Father and Sans go back and forth about Sans’ mental health. They had more than their fair share of fights. 

**He's doing this because he loves you, you know. Of course he wants to know.**

I know! God, I know. Except… it’s not me he loves. It’s because he loves Papyrus. 

“I guess what’s **wrong** with me is the million gold question, huh?”

“…Do you even _hear_ _yourself_? You don’t even sound like you! This **isn’t** you, Papyrus!” I let out a harsh, sad laugh. Burying myself deeper in this mess. I look back down at Sans and he’s looking back at me with wide, fearful sockets.

“How can you be so sure, huh? When was the last time you _actually looked_ at me!” 

“…” I try to stand up, but my legs are shaking too bad and Sans has a death, hah, grip on me.

“Sans, _please_. I’m tired and so are you.” In more ways than one.

“Well I’m sure as shit not leavin’ you alone. I’ll turn your ass blue if I have’ta.” I groan and rub my sockets. I want to be angry. I can feel it bubbling up, but I try to control it. I don’t really have that much fight left in me right now.

“I- Okay. Okay…” I groan and stand up again, bringing Sans to his feet as well. “Come on.”

“Huh?” I pick him up and go upstairs. “Where're we-“

“We're gonna sleep in my room, alright? Or are you too old for sleepovers now?”

“Uh. No. That’s fine?” When we reach my room I plop Sans down on the bed and grab a long-sleeve shirt. I’m still so, so uncomfortable. How the hell could I not be. I want to disappear into the ground.

I don’t bother changing out of my sweats and sit on the other side of the bed. I can feel the bed shift as I resolutely stare at the wall. I really should have just left when it happened. Why didn’t I just _leave_? I’m not equipped for this nonsense. Sans shouldn’t be worrying about me. He shouldn’t be losing his damn mind because I’m **careless**.

_**Papyrus… I know you want to help us, but there are too many dangerous things in here. We can't afford to be careless and I do not want anyone gettin’ hurt. Now go play, I love you.** _

I close my sockets and put my hand over my aching soul.

Never good enough.

Not good enough now.

And I won’t ever be.

“Papyrus.” He says it so much like our father… It makes me want to cry. It makes me want to break something.

And then he doesn’t say anything. I’m left wondering what it could possibly be. I’m also feeling like I'd prefer not to know. I’m so **done** with this. 

“…What is it.” He shifts again and gently grabs my arm. I turn towards him.

“Is this my fault?” I go quiet. The longer I’m quiet the more he looks like he’s ready to burst into tears again. It’s not just his fault. If it’s his fault at all. I guess in some ways it is. But maybe I’m using him as an excuse for how I feel. Or for what our father did to me. Or what I did to me. Or our genetics or… Or anything at all. I don't know.

I go to answer him and the world

**RESETS**

I fall over in the woods where I always start and hold back a scream of pure frustration. Can I ever get a _damn_ break? What did they mess up **this** time! You’d think after 100 resets they would know what to do! 

I groan and clench my fists. I have to do all of this again so soon!? What **else** is going to break apart in my life! If everything comes unraveled I don’t know _what_ I'll do! I might just lay down and never get back up. Then me and Sans really will be twins.

I turn onto my back in the snow and tiredly gaze at the mountains' top.

I am _so_ tired. I hate living this way. I would have been **fine** going on how we were forever and suffering by myself. I would have been **fine** just dusting out of fucking misery after I knew Sans would be okay. I would have been **fine** living how I always had because that’s all I **know**. I don’t **know** how to not show everyone Papyrus!

I put my arm over my sockets. What would it even matter lying to Sans at this point… He already knows. And he knows something’s wrong with me. Am I really in so deep with coming slightly apart I’m willing to just tear it all down because I don’t care anymore? Have I reached that point of apathy? I couldn’t possibly show him what the inside of me is like. I couldn’t imagine him… _caring_ for me like I do for him. And the sad part is that he doesn’t even really **care**. 

He just cares about the brother he’s familiar with.

And if I get rid of the Papyrus he knows then what do I even have left? I won’t even have Sans anymore. He’ll abandon the stranger wearing his brother’s clothes and it **terrifies** me to think about. I need Sans just as much as he needs me. _He's the only reason I’m still around_.

Pretending to be Papyrus is the only way I can pretend to be happy. 

I'm Papyrus and I’m not _Papyrus_ and I'm Papyrus, but I’m not _Papyrus_ , but I **am** Papyrus, but it feels _wrong_ to be him.

…I wonder what it’d be like if I changed it and just didn’t show up at all. If I just disappeared until this is all over. If I went away forever.

It would certainly be different anyways. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in for next time and comment 🤙
> 
> Achilles Come Down - Gang Of Youths


	7. You Dense Motherfucker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eveyone's always goddamn yelling

I rub my face and get up. I suppose there’s no delaying the inevitable. I really want to just go lay down…

So we do the whole song and dance. And we do it again. And again. And again. And we don’t exactly get far. I'm really not sure what the end goal of these current runs are. They only ever seem to make it to the lab and then reset. I'm losing more and more enthusiasm each time. And I'm trying less and less. I can’t be sure it isn’t noticeable. I just want to lay down and never get up again. 

Before I know it it’s been three weeks of this. And I’m only getting worse. I can barely get out of bed these days, though I soldier on through it. I’m hardly cleaning anymore and the house is starting to look like a mess. Even with Sans _attempting_ to help.

Sans never brings up what happened. He just watches me all the time. He won’t leave me alone unless I magically disappear. Then I get to be interrogated when I get home. He’s absolutely frantic when I come back. I can tell no matter how hard he tries to hide it. I suppose if he _actually_ cared he would do _something_ about it. But maybe not… He never does. What do I care. He can’t help me anyways. I catch him glancing at my arms constantly, though.

I slowly make my way towards Sans’ station. Another reset, another timeline and another long day. I’m not exactly happy having to do this. I’m certainly in no damn rush. I have time. I always do. Birds are singing, the wind is blowing and a cigarette’s burning in my mouth. I have to wonder if Sans is going to greet Frisk like he always does or if he’s going to come find me. I’ve never seen him do anything differently before, but I do always wonder. I would question if he actually remembers resets if not for the fact I know better. 

Well… I hope he won’t come after me anyways. Resetting was a good escape from that whole situation. Now he knows, but he doesn’t know that I remember. I wonder if he’s ever going to confront me about my… I grimace. Self mutilation. Or just do what he normally does. Nothing. He certainly never did anything to stop Frisk from killing before. He never came to my rescue. Never even warned me. To be perfectly fair I’ve never done anything differently either. I let Frisk kill me. Every single time. I wonder what Sans would think if he knew I always let it happen… I wonder how he would feel if he knew I knew he never even tried to save me.

When I show up at Sans’ post I can tell something is… weird. I’m still a ways away, but I can tell. I can always tell. Frisk is signing furiously and Sans is… shouting at them? This hasn’t happened before. I wish I could care more than I do right now about it. I guess this is how Sans always feels. He’d already given up by the time Flowey's power got taken away. The closer I get the clearer I can make out what’s happening. I stay out of sight behind the trees.

'I can’t! Nothing ever goes right!’

“Look! You _have_ to accept at some point that bad things **just happen** and we can’t do nothin’ about it! Alright?!”

'Then why can’t _you_ accept it?!’

“I am! But you have’ta STOP!”

'No! I can do better!’

“And sacrifice me in the process?! I can’t _take_ this anymore! This is **killin’** me! It’s too much! Ya say every time is the last time and that you’ll fix it and it never is and ya never do! Ya want a perfect endin’, but there ain’t no such thing. There’s just. Endings…” Sans sighs and leans against his post shack. “And now I find out somethin’ is seriously wrong with Papyrus and I _can’t fuckin’ do anything about it if ya keep manipulatin’ time_!" Sans rubs his forehead and Frisk lowers their hands. “I love my brother more than anythin’ else, kid. I can’t lose him. I can’t watch him suffer over and over… _Please_ , Frisk. If you ever cared about me or Papyrus or _any of us_ you’ll stop.”

Frisk seems to struggle with what to say for a moment before signing again. ‘You asked for this. Everyone deserves to be saved. Everyone deserves to be happy.’ Sans goes to respond, but Frisk frowns and start signing aggressively, ‘I’m not the only one who manipulates time, you know. You do. You have before. All your ‘shortcuts’? And it’s not like you do anything to help me! Why is that? Are you sure you care that much? You never stopped Chara when she killed-‘

…Chara? The princess? What-

“Okay! There’s somethin’ ya don’t seem to understand. Nothin’. I do. In a Time Loop. Matters! It’s **all** up to you! Ya _already know everything_. And how I figure it is what the **fuck** does it matter if in the end all you do is reset!? Why _else_ wouldn’t I do anythin’! No one remembers except us and that flower piece of shit! But now I have somethin’ I **need** to do here and now. That **needs** to be remembered!”

'But not when Papyrus died? Not when anyone else died? You care all of the sudden again? Now you think you can make a difference? I don’t understand you. You never cared before. Not once. You let us do anything we wanted without doing a damn thing, Sans!’

Why is that?

“Because- Because I didn’t know before. Because it stopped matterin’. Nothin’ ever _really_ changed. You said it y'rself! You won’t stop so why would I try? Do you even understand how long I’ve been livin’ resets? Even before you? Nothin’ mattered. Ever. Whatever happened happened no matter what I did. I don’t have power like you! I’ve lived through so much. Seen so much… But I never really saw-” He pauses. “There’s a lot I **didn’t** see, I guess. And I’m seein’ it now, alright? I… This has to be _it_. You _have_ to do it right this time.”

‘I always try to.’

“You can’t **save** them, kid. They’re already gone.”

Save who? Chara? Who else?

‘You’re a hypocrite.’

“I know.”

‘You asked _me_ to help _you_ save him!’

“I **know** , okay! I-“

‘Because _you_ can’t do it because you lost all of your determinati-‘

“ _I KNOW_!”

‘So you don’t even care about your own father anymore?’

“I love Papyrus _more_ and he isn’t lost to the universe and time itself! He’s still here with me and I wanna **keep** it that way!”

Our father? He's _still_ trying to-

“Well, **that** sure was informative don’t you think?” intones a voice next to my leg. I jump about a foot in the air and clap a hand over my mouth.

I glare down at Flowey. “ _Stop_ that!” I hiss.

“I'm just saying. So. The reason that Sans lets the both of you suffer is because he’s still trying to save your crackpot scientist fath-“

“ _Don’t call him that_!”

Flowey grins. “ _Which_ part shouldn’t I call him?”

I don’t answer and turn my gaze back towards Sans and Frisk. Except… They’re looking in our direction. My entire body tenses up, ready to flee.

“Shh,” Sans hushes. “…Did ya hear that?”

I completely hide myself behind the tree and breathe heavily. 

“I fucking hate you,” I whisper.

“Oops,” he says, smiling.

“Hey… I **know** that voice.” Sans. Oh no. I start slowly backing away from the scene, trying to keep out of sight.

“That’s my queue!” Flowy disappears and I turn behind another tree.

“Bastard,” I mumble. I peak around the tree and they’re standing closer to where I’m hiding.

Frisk wrinkles their nose. ‘Do you smell smoke?’

Sans tilts his head and looks towards my direction.

Shit, shit! I take my burnt down cigarette out of my mouth and-

“I know y’re there you flower motherfucker!”

Shit shit shit shit-

I turn around to run and I’m knocked flat on my back as soon as I do.

“Uuugh-“ I look up and Sans’ face is over mine. Frisk is right behind him. Don’t panic. Shit.

“Papyrus!?”

“Sans?” I laugh nervously. Sans is staring at something next to me. I turn to look and… Oh. Right. My smoke. Great. “Uh…”

“Wow.” He jumps up and looks down at me. “Just…” he laughs a little. “Wow, Papyrus. Smokin’? Are you **kiddin’** me!” 

“Well, actually, **kidding** would-“

“I’m gonna stop ya right there because I've heard this one before.”

Frisk looks completely flabbergasted.

“Sans…?” He tilts his head back and seems to take a deep breath before looking back down at me.

“What else don’t I know, huh? _What else_?”

“I, uh. I…” Oh god, I don’t know how to answer. Papyrus doesn’t smoke! How would he answer this! “I heard smoking helps you to stay focused! And I certainly want any advantage I can get to-“

" **SHUT UP!** ” My sockets go wide and my mouth opens a little. Frisk jumps in fright. He’s _never_ talked to me like that before. And I start to feel red hot inside. “Just _stop_!” How dare he! He thinks he can just fucking **talk** to me like that?! I’ve never treated him that way! 

I jump to my feet quicker then I can think about it. “Sans! Don’t you talk to me that way! I don’t **care** how upset you are! I’m your brother!” 

“Are you?!” And I feel like I’ve just been punched in the face. “Because ya sure don’t act like ‘im!”

‘Wait, wait what’s happenin-‘

“Oh, **you’re** one to talk!”

“What’s **that** supposed to mean!”

'Wait-‘

“ **It _means_ you’ve NEVER been a brother to me**!” I bellow. My entire body feels constricted and there’s magic building up in my hands. My entire soul is alight with fire.

“Wh-What…? How could you say that! Bro, you don’t. You don’t _mean_ that, right?”

“…“ Frisk turns towards Sans and grabs his attention. And consequently mine.

‘Should I load?’ They glance towards me and I scowl. I want to tear down this whole forest. They quickly look back to Sans. He looks too shocked to even answer. ‘Sans.’ He slowly looks towards me, then back to Frisk.

“I don’t… I don’t know.” He looks back towards me. “How much of that did ya-“

“ **That’s** what you care about right now?! Your **time bullshit**?!” I laugh harshly and put my hand to my forehead. “I mean, I suppose you shouldn’t _care_ that I’m talking to that ‘ _flower motherfucker_ ’ like you said! Or **anything else**!” The ground below me breaks apart as my magic explodes. Snow and dirt go flying. Trees fall around me. Sans teleports himself and Frisk out of the way of one.

“Papyrus!”

“No!” It feels like electricity is crackling in the air. Frisk hides behind Sans and Sans has his arms spread behind him blocking them. Because everyone’s **always** more important than me!

“Bro, stop it! What’re you _doin’_!?”

“I FUCKING **HATE** YOU, SANS!” I start sobbing, chest heaving. Crying out of pure frustration, anger and raw hurt. “I hate you _so_ m-much!” Magic crawls up my arms and to my shoulders, burning my bones in its wake. “You don’t **care** about me! You’re such a **LIAR**!” I scream, throat hurting. “You’re _just like_ our father!” I feel like I’m choking and things seems to tilt around me. “Neither of you **EVER** cared about me-“ I cough up plasma and stumble. 

“Bro!” Sans runs towards me and my magic lashes out at him, burning across his chest. He shouts out in pain and falls backwards, panting. “P-Papyrus! Stop it!” I can hear him wheezing and I fall to my knees still sobbing and burning.

The world

**RESETS**

I come to consciousness with the feeling of another crack in my chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tune in next time and comment 🤙


	8. Daddy Didn't Love Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bad father isn't always a villain, but he's still a bad father

I stare down at my shaking hands. I hurt Sans… I could have  _ killed _ him. Tears spring to my sockets and put a hand over my mouth. I almost  _ did.  _ Oh  _ stars _ I  **did** ! He would have dusted if Frisk hadn’t- I need to get out of here. I need to-

The sound of Sans’ shortcut comes from behind me. I don’t turn around. I can’t. I can’t even look at him. I'm a burden. I'm a failure. I'm a disgrace to our family name. Our father would  **hate** me. Sans probably  **does** hate me. God… What am I going to  _ do _ ? I killed him I killed him I killed him-

The snow crunches under his feet as he gets closer. Everything feels still. He comes to a stop right behind me. Nothing is said for a long moment. I’m just trying to keep it all in and not lose it again. Dear god. What have I done?

“…How long have ya known?” I shut my sockets, unable to answer. “I’m not an idiot, Paps. I know you know.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re-“ Sans sighs harshly and steps closer. I tense. 

“Are ya really still tryin’ to keep up y’re charade?” He laughs lightly. “Even after all’a  **that** ? What  _ was _ that, huh?” My body shakes with the effort of just trying not to cry. “Papyrus.” His hand lands on my back and I turn around to knock it away.

“Don’t! D-Don’t. Don’t touch me.” Tears slide down my face as Sans puts his hands up in mock surrender.

“Okay. Okay…” He looks at me with pitch black eyes and grins. It’s unsettling. “So. You  **hate** me. Is that it? I’ve ‘ **never been a brother** ’ to you, right?”

“No, that- that’s not-“

“Not  _ what _ ? Not  **true** ?” He scoffs and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Seemed pretty true when you  _ killed _ me-“

“It was an **accident** !”

“Yeah…” I wipe my face with my scarf and stare at the ground. “How can I believe  _ anythin _ ’ you say?”

“Do you  **really** think I would  **ever** try to hurt you like that on purpose?”

“I don’t know _what_ to think!” He kicks up snow and scowls. “Have I **_ever_** even **known** **you**?!” Every word he says to me feels like a stab in my soul. Actually, it really does feel like my soul is getting stabbed. It hurts.

“You did. Before…”

“How long? How long have you been a stranger? How long haven’t I known you?”

A stranger…

“…”

“What. A Couple years? A few?” I say nothing. “ **_More_ ** ? How  _ much _ more?” I look up at him blankly. 

“Does it even matter-“

“Yes!” I clench my jaw. “I wanna know how long my brother  **hasn’t existed** !” And it’s everything I feared would happen. “Did you start changing when we teenagers? When we were  _ kids _ !  **When** .”

“…Yes.”

“Yes? Yes to  _ which _ ?! What, when we were **kids** !” I look away. “Y're really tellin’ me-…” 

“I don’t know what to tell you.“

“Since we were kids… Heh. So y’ve been lyin’ to me our entire lives? And you called  **me** a liar? That’s the funniest shit I ever heard, Papyrus.”

“You don’t understand-“

“Nah, I think I understand perfect.” You really, really don’t.

I frown. “Don't act so high and mighty, Sans. You  **do** lie!”

“You lied  _ first _ !”

“But you didn’t  _ know that _ !” Sans' sockets widen a fraction.

“Wait… I  **tried** tellin’ you about the resets! You acted like ya didn’t know-“

“I was protecting you!”

“By makin’ me suffer through it alone?!”

“Because I couldn’t let you  _ worry about me _ ! Because I’m not  **allowed** to! I couldn’t let you think I wasn’t who I  **pretend** to  **be** !”

“What’re you  **_talkin_ ** ’ about?! That makes no fuckin’  _ sense _ -“

“ **I’m not supposed to upset you** !  _ God _ \- I can’t-!” I dig my fingers into the sides of my skull and clench my sockets. He’s not supposed to know this! Any of this! He’s ruining  _ everything _ I’ve done! Why can’t he just let it go! He never cared  _ before _ -!

“I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, Papyrus! What the actual  **_fuck_ ** are you talkin’ about?!”

“Just let it go-!”

“No! I’m not just gonna-!”

“It doesn’t matter-!”

“ **Why** doesn’t it-?!”

“Because  **_I don’t matter_ ** ! I’ve  **_never mattered_ ** ! I’ve never been important! You’ve  _ always _ been more importa-!”

“That’s  **_bullshit_ ** , Papyrus and you  **know** it! How can you even  _ think that _ -“

“ **Because that’s what dad told me** !”

Sans doesn’t say anything for a solid minute and just looks at me.

“…W h a t?” He says sharply. “Dad would’ve  **never** -“

“Well he  **_did_ ** ! Of  **course** you wouldn’t think so! He never treated you that way-!”

“He actually  _ said _ that to you? He  _ said _ you don’t matter?”

“No, not in so many words, but he didn’t  **have** to! He made it abundantly clear!”

“I think maybe you’re  **misinterpre** -“

“ **_Be good. Do as you're told. Don’t give your brother any trouble. Don’t upset him. Keep him happy. And remember. I love you, Papyrus._ ** ” I clench my hands. “ **_Sans and I are busy right now, Papyrus. I know you want to help, but I can’t afford to be careless. I love you._ ** ” I look straight at Sans. “ **_Not now, Papyrus. Later, Papyrus. Don’t bother your brother, Papyrus. You should be able to do this on your own! Why can’t you do this? Sans would have gotten it in ten minutes. You need to pay more attention._ ** ” I get progressively louder. “ **_Why can’t you be more like your brother? I think this project might be above your level. Why can’t you get grades like your brother? I don’t understand! If you really want to help then go sit quietly. I love you, Papyrus, but I can’t put up with your incessant chatterin’ today._ ** ”

“S-Stop,” he whispers.

“ ** _I’m sorry, but you know your brother needs more attention, Papyrus. He’s sick. He’s tired. He doesn’t feel good. Be quiet. Be good. I love you. Why’re you causin’ problems? Papyrus, I can’t deal with you today. Go study, you need it._** **_It doesn’t matter what’s wrong. You wouldn’t be able to understand anyways. No, Sans can’t help you with the chores, Papyrus. He’s in bed. Can’t you just do this one thing for me, please? I love you. Can’t you ever do anythin’ right? I love you, but you frustrate me!_** **_Sans Sans Sans Sans SANS!”_** I hit the tree next to me and the wood splinters and breaks under my hand. Sans takes a step back. “He might as well had said to my **face** that he **loves you more** than me! Do I need to go on?!”

“No. He… Dad would have never done  _ any _ of that.”

“What!” I throw my arms out, “Are you serious?!” Sans’ face goes blue.

“Not on the usual, but right now I am! I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you desecrate dad’s memory!”

“His memory of what? What a terrible father he was to me?!”

“All’a this because you say dad didn’t hug you enough! You’re outta y’r fuckin’ mind!”

“Hey-!”

“Dad  **loved** you! He loved  **both** of us!”

“Oh, sure! He  _ did _ love me. Just not as  **much** as he loved  **you** ! I might as well have not  _ existed _ to him. But hey! At least I was good for keeping house! Which came in handy since I’m  **_always_ ** taking care of your ass and I  **_always_ ** have!” Sans grits his teeth and hands.

“Well I didn’t ask you to!”

“No, our father did! My whole life has been for  _ you _ ! Everything I’ve  _ ever _ done has been for  _ you _ ! And you just won't get off your ass to do anything with your life or even-”

“Well don’t worry, ya don’t have to do anythin’ for me anymore!”

“Wha-“

“I don’t  **want** ya in my life anymore! You can just  **_fuck off_ ** , Papyrus! You're a liar and an asshole and you’re  _ no _ brother of mine!” I want to die. My chest hurts so much.

“F-Fine! If that’s how you feel then **fine**! I’m tired of living for you **_anyways_**! You can **_fuck_** **_off_** too!”

“ **I will** !” he screams. He stares at me for another few seconds before teleporting away.

I clutch at my chest and shake violently. My whole reason for living. My whole reason for existing and he doesn’t want me in his life anymore… And I told to him fuck off because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Because now he knows. He knows  _ everything _ . So now.

Now I don’t know what to do. What am I-… What do I do? What do I do. 

I start walking back to town. Head empty with a heavy body. I can’t… I can’t deal with this. I don’t want to. Oh stars. I bore my soul to him and he- he didn’t believe me! He didn’t believe a single damn thing I said. I scowl. Well. Well fuck him! I… I don’t n-need him! I don’t. I don’t… I don’t think about how it’s a lie.

I don’t talk to anyone on the way back. Monsters greet me and I can’t even look at them. It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t care if no one talks to me again. Grillby tries to get my attention. He grabs my arm and I just shrug him off harshly.

“Papyrus,” he says softly. “What’s wrong?”

“Just leave me the hell alone,” I snap, continuing the trek back to our house. No one ever cared before. No one cares now. And I’m not going to let them. All I am is a ghost in this town. I’m a stranger among friends who belong in someone else’s life.

I finally reach our house and just stand in front of the door for a minute. With extreme hesitation I enter and look around. A bunch of furniture is knocked over. Fucking great. There’s a hole in the wall and- And the sock on the floor is gone… It’s gone?

“…Sans?” Every light is off and the house is eerily silent. I walk up the stairs and go to his room. I open the door and my sockets widen. Everything in his room is gone. The only thing left is a piece of paper on the door. I take it off and look at it blankly.

**DON’T LOOK FOR ME**

I violently crumple the paper up and lean against the door. Asshole. Asshole asshole  **asshole** ! I slide down the door until I’m sitting and rest my head on my knee. I knew it! I  **knew** he would abandon me. I knew it…

“FUCK!” I ram my fist through the door and scream. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time and comment 🤙


	9. Hellfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey sorry this fic isnt abandoned  
> things got bad then i just couldnt write  
> But i should be back to updating on thr regular  
> Sorry it's not formatted like my usual chapters  
> Ive been writing this for days and im tired

It’s been one month and two weeks. It’s been one month and two weeks since Sans disowned me and left. And… I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. Frisk hasn’t been around as far as I know. After the 15 resets they did in quick succession after my freakout there hasn’t been another one. It's been a month and a half. There hasn’t even been a load. The world hasn’t shifted at all. It makes me wonder a lot of things. Why would they do so many resets at once? Why haven’t they done any since?

I wish I could wonder less and rest more.

It doesn’t matter why anyways. Nothing changes or worse things happen. The worst thing that happens is that we get out of here. And nothing changes… Sans and I still lie to each other. Still hide from each other. It doesn’t even matter. It stopped mattering about ten times in. And now? Now it’s an even worse future. One I especially don’t want.

I get out of the kitchen chair and stagger a little when I got out the back door. I’m a lot more uncoordinated lately… It’s fine.

It’s been a month and a half and Sans won’t answer me. Won't text me back. He doesn’t even read them. His voicemail box is full… 

I sit on the ice covered steps and light a cigarette. Resting my skull in my hand I stare out at the dark tree line.

I'd be worried if not for the fact I know he hates me now. I’m nothing to him except a stranger. I’m not surprised he's not answering. He's probably just fine without me. (I'm terrified he's not okay without me)

I clench my hand a little before I have to stop. Doing things are more of a strain lately. It’s fine. 

Maybe I should… I don’t know. I guess in a way I act like he’s helpless. He acts like it sometimes. Maybe he would have his life together now if I had just. Let him be. Let him go off on his own. Maybe I’ve been stifling him his whole life. I always took care of problems. Usually. Took care of the both of us for quite a bit of it. And it’s not as if Sans never did any of the caring. He did. He does. He used to care more.

It was hard after our father died. We were both wrecks. For as much as I resent him he was still our father… And it’s not as if he left us a goldmine of wealth. A lot of what he made was put back into an account for further research. Sans certainly didn’t take a salary from him. He thought the idea was offensive at best. He was there to help for the sake of our father, the sake of our society and for the sake of science itself. The labs were basically his free for all. What else could he want? Our father still took care of us. We didn’t want for anything. You never know what’ll happen, I suppose.

I wish what happened had just taken me too. It should have. It should have taken me instead of my father. They would’ve continued to be happy if it had been me instead.

Why wasn’t it me?

I rub my neck and tiredly look at my cigarette burning.

We spent a lot of money to move and buy a house here. We just couldn’t stand the thought of staying in New Home. In the house we were raised in. Honestly it was probably a stupid idea… Sans wanted to let go of the old house. I kept paying for it to stay unoccupied or sold… Out of guilt or… I’m not sure. Sans hated that. But I bet he likes it now, because I’m almost sure that’s where he is. He really loves to emotionally torture himself sometimes. 

I just can’t bring myself to find out if he actually is there. And what if he is? I don’t even want to think about it. What I would do. What I would say. What he would say and do. How it probably wouldn’t matter…

I shake my skull lightly. I need to quit thinking about it.

It was maybe a year and a couple months before we had to start working. That’s where it feels like everything really started to go wrong. We were stressed. We were barely adults. We didn’t know how to do all of this home stuff. We got bad advice at the start. It set us way back. Sans kept losing his jobs. I couldn’t find a real one. Odd jobs that didn’t pay for shit honestly. Or I was too ditzy and lost in my thoughts to hold down anything serious. To depressed. Too fucked up. Unable to separate my sickness from my persona. Stars… We argued a lot. Then would just act like nothing happened and everything was fine. Like always. I’d always act extra happy afterwards. Did whatever he wanted. Not like I ever didn’t.

I laugh a little. We still can’t hold down serious jobs. Real jobs. Jobs that pay decently enough. Sans could have become royal scientist. I could have gotten a degree in something. And we just gave up… We sure are messes. Our father would be so disappointed.

I think the worst thing that ever happened in that time was when Sans had lost another job and I was on the verge of losing our childhood home too. He came home and told me and I just. I lost my mind. We were screaming at each other so loud that I thought it’d reach the town miles away. And I said- I told him… 'You’re so useless that you might as well join dad!’ That was one of my lowest points. I could have died after and it would have been just. I’m not proud of it. Not at all… We never talked about. It never happened. He probably thinks about it a lot.…

You know. And it’s not like he can’t do anything. He’s done plenty on his own without me. He has his jobs. He does things. He’s an adult, not a child. Though he could be accused of treating me the same way. Which is completely my fault. I just wish he would actually do more himself. All he does is sleep, go to work, sleep again, drink and spend the rest of the day hungover.

I huddle into my hoodie more, shivering a little. It’s not warm enough. Just like this house isn’t warm enough. 

I throw the cigarette butt onto the ground and light up another one. 

How can I judge Sans. All I’ve been doing is chain smoking. Or crying. Or staring at nothing at all. Or breaking things when I’m so furious I can’t even breathe. I’ve been laying around. I only cook every now and again. I'm trying to clean when I can. It’s not going well. Not doing my daily routines that keep me functioning… I can’t run anymore. I get tired fifteen minutes in. It hurts. And I just end up coughing up bloody plasma. I’m still not taking my medications and I hadn’t gone back to anyone to get new ones for any reset after. I haven’t been doing anything except for when I woke up buzzing and ready to go the first week. I had to do something. So I cleaned the house top to bottom and inside and out. It took me like three days and after that burst of manic energy I just… seemed to not be able to do anything after that. I only go out for smokes or food and even that’s too much work sometimes.

Guess I know how Sans feels. Monsters have stopped trying to talk to me. They know I wont answer or I'll ignore them. They give me looks. Looks of fear… They’re too scared to talk to me. That’s the problem with a place like this. Word gets around faster than anything. 

The guards… They won’t even look at me. The only one who will is Dogaressa, but she only looks like she’ll cry when she sees me. I hear the others growling if I get close enough. I guess I deserve it. It’s fine. The less people think about me and of me the better. The more they hate me the better. It’ll be fine. No one’s going to remember any of this anyways. I want to decay. When the world resets I’ll just leave. I’ll leave every time. Hide away where no can find me. Where no one can be around me. And if the world doesn’t reset? I’ll leave anyways. I’ll disappear until the next one. I’ll disappear forever. For now I’ll sequester myself here… No one will come. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I just don’t care. I don’t want anyone to think about me.

Then there’s Grillby.

…

He won’t stop trying. He keeps trying. He’ll follow me. Try to talk to me. Walk me home if he sees me. Even if he has something else to be doing. He won’t quit. I ignore him and he just keeps trying. I don’t know what he’s trying to do… And I don’t know why. We’ve never exactly been ‘friends'. Which is not to say there’s any animosity there. Just. He was always more Sans’ friend. I only know him through my brother. 

He asked about him before. About where he was. All I said was, ‘I don't know.’ And left it at that. He looked so worried, but didn’t ask again. I would tell him if Sans… died. Maybe Sans answered him or something. I wouldn’t know. If Sans died I wouldn’t even be around anymore. I couldn’t handle it… So maybe no one would be around to tell.

I wish he’d just leave me be. He's not even scared of me and he should be. Everyone should be. I wish everyone would be. I wish everyone would leave me alone. Good thing I’m on a quick path to it. Quicker than I ever thought possible. More painful than I thought possible.

Undyne called after the first week. She wanted to know where Sans and I were. Why we haven’t been at work. She’s concerned. And do either of us know how annoying it is to cover our shifts and especially without notice you idiots. I told her Sans and I are quarantined because we are extremely contagious. She asked what’s wrong, of course, and I said I didn’t know. That Alphys was working on it.

I knew it was going to bite me in the pelvis later. I don’t know why I said it. I was tired and I panicked. That’s always my excuse for being a dumbass.

Needless to say ‘we’ had as much sick leave as we liked to recover. So I had as much time to wither as I wanted. Well. I thought I did. Me, idiot, this seems to be a running theme.

So after that I just. Didn’t really go anywhere. Talk to anyone despite some of them trying. They ask me what’s wrong. Are you okay… I just ignore them and keep on my way. Some of them are very persistent until I bite their heads off. Whatever. No one’s going to remember anyways after a while. It’s almost feels good being myself for once.

I look over at the destroyed back room of the house. The wood blown apart. Plastic covering the giant hole in the wall. Scorched earth. I look back down at my equally scorched hands.

I wish I had never lied now.

Undyne... And I should’ve known better than to lie. But what was I supposed to say? She was very… Aggressive as usual when she came to the house. That was about a week and a half after she initially called.

I was sitting on the couch when the door suddenly banged open, hanging half on the hinges. I jumped up and stumbled slightly, dizzy from getting up so quick and feeling so weak.

“What the hell-!” Undyne stomped over to me and I throw my arms up. “Hey, come in I guess!”

“You LIED to me!” She grabbed the front of my scarf and I was honestly kind of frightened by her for the first time.

“Undyne-“

“SHUT UP!” I clacked my teeth together and shook a little. She didn’t notice. No one ever notices anything about me ‘til I shove it in their face. “You fucking lied to me, Papyrus. Where’s your honor? I’m your captain and your friend! And you’re going to tell me what’s going on RIGHT NOW!”

And that did it.

I shoved her away from me as hard as I could and she fell onto the floor. She didn’t expect it. Why would she? She stared up at me agape as my hands sparked dangerously with magic. 

“You're NOT my captain! You will never BE my captain! You think I don’t know you’ll never let me into the royal guard?” I laughed. I laughed in her face feeling like I was losing it again. It felt good at the time. “And I’m glad about it! I never really w a n t e d to be in it in the first place! I just did it for an income! It was even better that it wasn’t a real job!” I couldn’t think straight. I never can when I’m angry. All rationale goes out the window. I never thought of the consequences. “It was so fucking easy and I was happy about that!” She looked absolutely gobsmacked.

Right before she gnashed her teeth and jumped back up to her feet.

“What the fuck is your p r o b l e m?! This isn’t you! You’re talking crazy!”

“It IS me! You don’t know who I AM! You're not my friend, Undyne. You never were! I’m just some- some stranger!” A beam of magic shot away from me and put a hole in the floor next to her, smoking away. 

“Holy shit!” Her arms were raised in defense and I couldn’t care. I stepped forward and she didn’t move.

“You really think you ever knew me at all? You really thought I was just some dumb fucking idiot! You never even thought to look! You never even noticed!”

“Papyrus-“ 

“Well let me tell you something. You're the one who’s an idiot! You and everyone else! You said you care about me, but you care about someone who doesn’t even e x i s t!”

“STOP-“ I stood right in front of her, our faces almost touching. My magic was still sparking hot and wild. It started burning holes in our clothes and she still didn’t move. I wanted her to get the fuck out of my house. I wanted to hurt her! “You're saying all this stupid shit, but how was I supposed to know! You never said!”

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupidstupidstupid

“ I’m!” I drew my fist back. “Not!” My magic started whipping around. “Stupid!” I threw my punch and she barely dodged, rolling behind me and grabbing one of my arms. I wanted to scream it hurt so much, her grip felt like it was going to break my arm. It wouldn’t have been hard. I had been chipping and chipping, my dust falling easier with every day. I hadn’t been going to my “doctor” in New Home. My clothes keep sticking to me with plasma, making changing excruciating. So I just stopped changing my clothes. “Let GO!”

“Not a chance in hel-!” I used all my weight to suplex her over my head and away from me, my magic helped. It had to have helped. There’s no way I could have done it otherwise. I’m too sick. I felt mad. Like a wild animal.

She slammed into the living room wall before jumping away from another blast of raw, burning magic. I felt like I was on fire, my bones alight with pain. 

“ There’s something wrong with you! Let me HELP you!” She rushed at me and my magic went out of control. My eyes burned with orange fire and engulfed her right side. Still he tried to reach me. My magic lashed out and lashed out trying to protect me.

The moment she started yelling in pain I had a shock of clarity

Oh, dear god what am I doing!

I wanted to stop, I needed to stop I need to I need to and I couldn’t! I was completely out of control! My magic wouldn’t listen. Oh god it wouldn’t listen!

I tried pushing her away from me, but she just held on tighter.

“Get away-!”

“NO!” My hands were on her shoulders as I still tried pushing her away. I could see my hands charring and her flesh burning in my magic’s wake.

“You need to let go!”

“I WON'T!” The need to protect her and get her away from me was too much. My magic suddenly exploded. It blasted open the wall behind her, throwing her outside. And then it’s like it stopped all at once. My magic frizzled to nothing as debris still fell from the wall and ceiling. Undyne’s leg hung up on a ledge of broken wood, the rest of her body was slung outside and down on the ground.

I fell over almost immediately, my head slammed against the floor and all I could hear was ringing. Something was dripping out of my mouth and one of my sockets. All I saw was double as I tried looking towards Undyne.

I hyperventilated as I rolled over onto my front. A herculean, painful effort. Every time I tried to stand up I just crashed back over. Eventually I had made my way to an undamaged wall and dragged myself over to Undyne. I dropped to my knees at the end of the wall and looked down. I wanted to be sick. I was. I turned and retched dark plasma and magic onto the floor. I looked back down at her. Huge patches of flesh and scales completely burned. Some parts smoking. There was blood and her arm was bent at a strange angle. I started to cry and pushed myself over the edge of the floor and dropped down next to her. I wanted to scream from the pain. I knelt in the freezing snow and pushed her hair out of her face. 

“U-Undyne?” I shook her shoulders and she didn’t respond. “Und-Undy-dyne, please!” I cried harder to the point of hysterics. I rested my head on her chest. She was still breathing. It didn’t console me. She didn’t seem to be dusting anywhere. And still it didn’t console. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!” Someone had to have heard the blast. They had to have. I didn’t know if they did. I can’t do anything. I tried calling up my healing magic, but all I got were wisps of green magic. “Fuck. Fuck!” 

I grabbed my phone out of my pocket with violently shaking hands. The plastic was melted in places and the screen almost completely shattered. By some miracle it blipped on. The first monster I wanted to call was Sans, but I knew it’s useless. So I dialed a different number.

“ Hello?” A voice crackled gently.

“Grillby, Gr-Grillby,” I said breathlessly. I was still sobbing.

“Papyrus?”

“Help, Help! You ha-have to come help, please!” I gripped the phone as tightly as I could. I was afraid I would drop it and not be able to pick it back up. “I did something- I fucked up-!”

“I’m coming!” He said in a rush. “ Stay on the phone!” 

I could barely think. I didn’t answer him. 

I wasn’t aware of how much time had passed. I was too focused on not passing out. I tried keeping Undyne warm by putting my jacket over her. I was still crying.

Eventually I heard fast and hard crunching in the snow and turned my head. It was Grillby and… Gerson? Doggo and Dogaressa were in tow. I remember thinking faintly that it was Strange that Dogamy wasn’t with her and that maybe he was sick. I was concerned. 

I suddenly heard gasps and exclamations.

“Oh, my stars!” Dogaressa covered her muzzle and stopped short.

“What happened here!” Gerson bellowed as he continued forward, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Good lord!” Grillby just seemed to run faster towards us.

“What’s happening? How bad is it, I can’t see-“ Doggo asked in a panic while he stood next to Dogarressa. He looked around wildly and sniffed the air, his ears went flat and he covered his nose.

I hunched lower and wished I would disappear.

“I’m sorry! It was an accident, it was an accident! I didn’t mean to! Oh stars, oh god-! I-!” Someone put their hand on my back and I flinched in fear and pain.

“We need to get them back to my place! I’ll do what I can here. Grillby, try to keep them warm. I’m too afraid to move them.” Grillby nodded and gently pulled me against his side while placing a hand on Undyne's forehead. I was too weak to struggle. I just continued to panic. My mouth and eye were still leaking. And not with tears and vomit. It felt thick. I could only see out my right eye. Whatever it was it felt like it was slicking down my face from the center left. My vision started blacking at the edges. I gripped Grillby's shirt while the world spun and my head dropped forward in unconsciousness.

I woke up in Gerson’s house. Warm and unfortunately in pain. 

“You're awake, eh?” I jumped and grabbed my chest, soul painfully beating. “ Yeah, I bet that hurts.” 

I looked towards Gerson’s frowning face. His brow was furrowed and he’d been making some kind of tea. It smelled terrible. 

“So,” he says. “Mind explainin’?”

“It was an accident.” It felt like my face was on fire and I was afraid to touch it.

“Yes. I know. But what happened?”

“… Is Undyne okay?” 

“She will be,” he answered after a moment. “She always is. She’ll have new battle scars and be the happier for it. Tough girl.” He waved his hand slowly around the bowl of… tea? I wasn’t sure. It sparkled with a red glow before settling again with a puff of purple smoke. “Can ya sit up alright?”

I moved gently until I’m set up on my elbows. My skull started sweating a little from the effort. I wished I was home where no one could look at me. I’m ugly inside and out.

Gerson held out the bowl for me, but my hand shook too much to grab it. Gerson grumbled a little and squatted down next to me. He held up the bowl next to my face and I just about glared him

“I would really prefer-“

“I don’t care what you’d prefer, boy. Drink it.”

We stared each other down for a moment before I gave in. It takes too much energy to fight anyways.

“Fine.” 

He grunted in self satisfaction. “That’s what I thought.” I ignored him as I drank the tea or whatever the hell it was. All I know is that it was horrendously disgusting and I wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. A gentle blaze flowed through my bones and I felt better than I had in a while.

“…Thanks.”

“hm.” He put the bowl back and started making more. I assumed it’s for Undyne.

…I know about monsters and I know about human monsters.

I’m definitely a monster in human’s eyes. I’m dangerous.

“You're sure thinkin’ awfully hard, kid.” I tensed my shoulders.

“I’m not a child.”

“When you’re my age everyone’s a child. Hell, Asgore’s a child. I saw that whippersnapper grow up and he’s still a kid.” 

I said nothing and fully sat up. Send me home already. I don’t care about this. I’m tired and I feel like hell.

And I shouldn’t be around anyone. I’m going to turn into a… into a killer. I bunched some of the covers in my hand and gripped them tight.

“Let me ask you something, Papyrus.”

“I'd prefer you didn’t, Gerson.”

He grunted and waved his hand in a manner of brushing me off. “You'd prefer to never do anything apparently. So much like your brother.” And that made my sockets sting with tears. In frustration and or grief I wasn’t sure.

I continued staring down at my hands.

“What’s wrong with your soul?” That had me choking on nothing.

“Wh-wha-“

“I’m a healer, kid. Shouldn’t be surprisin’ I saw it. Though what I saw was definitely a surprise to me. And don’t get me started on your arms and just about well. Just about most parts of you.” He frowned heavily and continued to work without looking at me. He seemed tense now that I think back on it. Like he was waiting for a string to snap. I can’t blame him.

I stood slowly and grabbed my shirt next to me.

“…There’s absolutely nothing wrong with my soul, Gerson. I don’t know what you thought you saw, but you’re wrong.” I started making my way to the door of his hut. “I have to go. Thank you for your help,” I said, hand on the door.

“You’re dyin’.” That stopped me in my tracks. 

I supposed I’d known it in the back of my head, in a faint way, not giving it any thought except wondering if that or taking my own life would get me first. Mostly I hadn’t been thinking about it because it just doesn’t matter. But it was jarring to hear out loud and from someone else.

Gerson scoffed and stood, cane tapping against the floor. “But you don’t care, do you, Papyrus. A monster can feel when they’re fallin’. And you been fallin’ a long time it seems.” He walked toward me, slow and steady. “You're good, I’ll give you that. Always had me fooled anyways.”

My body shook. How the fuck could I have allowed someone to see that. Now he won’t let it go. He has his jaws around it. I never thought I would say it, but I had wished Frisk would reset. I wanted it so badly. Even temporarily I didn’t want to deal with it. I’m not used to people confronting me about problems. Problems no one should even know about. I can’t handle anyone worrying about me. It’s just too much.

“I have to- I have to-“ I near whispered, out of breath and feeling like I could’ve collapsed.

“But now people are seein’. And they’re gonna wonder. And they're gonna wanna do something about it, kid. Your magic is out of control. It’s dangerous. You can’t control it anymore and it manifests itself like that when you’re under duress. And it’s only gonna get worse. Now you’ve hurt someone.” My fingers scrap into the wood of the door. Not the first one. “Yes, it was an accident. But not the kind you’re gonna tell people.” He put his hand on my back and I could’ve screamed.

“And are you? Going to tell.” I wished my voice sounded stronger.

“Hmm…” He didn’t speak for a long moment and it felt suffocating. “Maybe. Maybe not. Not my place, I suppose. Or my worry. It’s gonna be your worry if you keep hurtin’ people. I suppose unless you die first.” He turns me around and shoves a bag in my hands. “Here. Can’t do much else for you ‘cause you don’t want me to. You won’t accept it.” He shrugged. “But if you’re gonna die it can at least be comfortable.”

I stared down at the bag feeling completely turned around and dizzy. “Uh-“

“I don’t know all what you’re dealing with, but I do think you’re a coward, though. Doin’ this. This whole thing. You’re just lettin’ yourself die.” He crossed his arms. “What about that poor brother of yours?”

I shook my head and gave him a grin that hurts.

“I’ve always been a coward, Gerson. That’s the problem.” I opened the door. “Thanks again.”

“No one you love will ever forgive you for this.”

“…Good. I’d rather they hate me and forget.”

I look away from the destruction of my house and down at my shaking hands. I never did use any of that stuff Gerson gave me. It’s still sitting somewhere.

It’s been about a week or somethin’, I guess. I haven no idea. I haven’t heard from Gerson. Or Undyne… 

It feels devastating. It makes me feel better.

Every time Grillby comes by I tell him to fuck off. If he messages or calls I don’t know. I haven’t had my phone since Undyne called me before everything went to, what’s it called? Hell in a hand basket? He just really doesn’t quit. He's got a lot of determination… Sometimes I think about letting him inside the house. Then again I don’t want to burden him. It’s not worth it. He can’t help.

I get back up and cough a bit before heading back inside and going into the kitchen. I make myself a pot of coffee.

I light another cigarette. I never smoked in the house. And I forbade Sans to. God, he’s such a hypocrite getting upset at me smoking.

I take a deep drag and stare at the coffee pot percolating.

I miss my brother so fucking much…


	10. Dial Tone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unlikely solicitation, hoo could it be

I woke up completely buzzing today. Needing to do something. Anything. But I can’t do much at all. I feel too worn down. I think and think and think and- I'm messing around on my computer for lack of anything else to distract me when suddenly it pings. I furrow my brow and look at the notifications. I have a new message. And then it pings again. “Who?” I click on the messages. Oh It’s Alphys…

✨ALPHYS✨

Sent at 5:25 pm

[ 🤐💛💾 ]

Hey. Uh, I haven’t heard from you in a long time! I hope you’re not mad at me for some reason. I sent you other messages, but maybe they didn’t go through… But. What Undyne said worried me. So, I was just checking in! I hope I'm not bothering you… ✔[ 💀🕶🎷 ]

💬

Sent at 5:26 pm

[ 🤐💛💾 ]

Papyrus, are you online? It says you read my messages. I just want to talk. ✔[ 💀🕶🎷 ]

I yank my plug out of the wall and stare at the black screen. That was an extreme reaction on my part… She probably thinks I don’t like her anymore. I sigh and lean back. I pick at my collarbone. Fine dust comes away. I keep telling myself it doesn’t matter in the end. No one will remember anyways. I rub a hand across my face, pausing when I feel the deep rivet running across it. A diagonal break down my socket and downward to my right jawline. My own magic betraying me… Like I need another reason to feel bad about myself. I only have about half my vision in it still. I think it’s permanent.

I need a cigarette. I wrap my quilt around me and go out to the balcony.

I’m not outside very long when I hear a familiar voice. It makes me jump in the silence a little.

“Papyrus.”

I look down from the railing and spot Flowey. 

“…Hey.” He grows so he’s tall enough to be next to me. I feel so twitchy.

“Woah. What the hell happened to your face?  **Wait** . Don’t tell me.” I blink and touch my face self-consciously. “Still hiding out in your house, huh? I haven’t seen you anywhere. Well. Sort'a. You haven’t been visiting.” Haven’t been visiting. Haven’t been doing anything. Haven’t done anything except hurt the people around me.

“Sorry.” I bluntly state, brow furrowed. If you wanted to see me you could’ve just fucking found me. It’s not hard. He tilts his head and stares at me hard. I stare back in irritation and take a slow inhale of my cigarette before looking away.

“You know. Of all the times I’ve seen you fucked up, this is the  **worst** . I’ve never seen you this bad before.” He's eyeing the dust on my shirt. My mangled arms that are missing complete chunks of bone now. They’re weeping plasma. I’ve tried keeping them wrapped and tried healing them, but… It’s like I have no healing magic anymore. I wonder if it’s because I’ve completely lost the ability to care about myself anymore. It doesn’t help that I can’t remember the last time I ate anything substantial. My HP won’t go up. Gerson’s stuff really only helps with pain. Which is fine.

“Careful. You almost sound like you  **care** .” I snap at him. I hear a snarl come from his direction and look back over.

“I  _ do _ care about you.” I blink in surprise and his petals seem to wilt a little. “I don’t think it’s necessary to say it. Why do I  **have** to? You should just know! Do you really think I would act how I do with you if I didn’t?” He rests his head in the balcony railing and my soul beats fast from the surprise, hurting me. “Just because I can’t feel like a normal monster doesn’t mean I don’t care about you… just because you don’t understand how I care doesn’t mean I don’t. It’s just. Different. It’s just different…”

“Flowey, I-“

“I don’t want you to die.” His voice wavers and I’m taken aback. He wraps a couple of vines around me and I don’t know how to react.

I didn’t think he cared at all… I guess, uh. Wow. I thought I was just to stave off boredom. He never said…

“I know you’re dying. I heard you and Gerson. You’ve lost your hope. If you lose all of your hope and dust you’ll never come back. Do you know that? You don’t even know, do you. That explosion in the lab messed with you and that smiley trash bag. Why do you think you both remember? Why do you think that asshole has time powers? Even if there was ever a reset again it wouldn’t matter. You remember everything. You wouldn’t forget losing your hope. You wouldn’t get it back. You would fall on impact. ”

“…”

“And you don’t fucking care. You- You're so selfish.” I know. “You have so many people that care about you, but you’re so self-centered that you just throw everyone away and can’t see it! You can't see how  _ lucky _ you are!” 

“ **Lucky** ?! The hell I am. Who even cares about me? My brother doesn’t c-care.” I cough into my hand and rub the plasma and blood on my shirt. Flowey seems surprised. “Undyne probably never wants to see me again. Alphys… I haven’t seen Asgore in  **months** . And then there’s  _ you _ ! How much you’ve hurt me! Time and time again! And you say you  **care** ! Where have  _ you  _ been-“ Flowey suddenly grips my neck so tight I go stock still.

“And who’s fault is that!  **Listen to me** ! You’re such an  **IDIOT** ! You say you don’t have anyone. Any friends. But you do you  _ numbskull _ .”

I make a noise and Flowey releases his grip, almost looking like he feels bad. “It’s your own fault your friends don’t know you. It’s your own fault you never see them or talk to them about anything. It’s your own fault your relationships are so completely broken. You expect people to talk to you and be there for you without you doing any work at all! How are they supposed to do all of this if you won’t say anything! Do anything!”

“I don’t  **want** anyone to care about me-“

“ **Bullshit** . Yes, you do! You're just trying to make yourself feel better about slowly killing yourself! You say you don’t want anyone to care about you because it’s  _ easier _ and it makes me sick! But that’s what your whole life has been, hasn’t it. Always taking the easy way out! If you actually wanted be gone so bad then you would take a quicker way out! But you don’t  _ really _ want to die! You just want something better to happen, but you won’t make it happen! You wait and wait and that’s why you’re always so miserable! If you would just  **_try_ ** you could fix it all!

“Shut the fuck up!”

“You shut up! I  **know** I hurt you before! And it’s something I at least regret now. When was the last time you  _ actually _ regretted anything? All the bullshit you’ve ever pulled is for your ‘greater good'! Maybe you feel bad they’re hurt, but your ends justify the means no matter what you do. Isn’t that right? You don’t  **have** to care because you think you don't have any consequences!” 

“You don’t know that-“

“Of  **course** I do! You’ve never shown me every part of you.  _ Ever _ . But I know enough. I know the most even if it’s not everything. You’re good at distracting everyone around you by constantly talking. Talking in circles. Doing anything at all so they won’t see you. And yet you complain about it! You do it to yourself! I don’t know how you ever became so self-absorbed with how often you help people! Or is that part of you fake too?”

“You're one to talk!”

“I know! That’s why you should  **_listen to me_ ** !” I pause and cross my arms as I lean on the railing.

“…I don’t know,” I admit after a moment. “Maybe I started that way. Genuinely wanting to help others and care for them. But I don’t know how much of it’s real and how much was manufactured when growing up.”

Flowey huffs and releases me. “At least you’re being honest, I guess. You know… at some point you have to stop blaming your father for the way you are. He made his choices. Made you make choices you didn’t want to. But he’s gone. You made a choice to be like this. You don’t have to. But you do. And I don’t understand why. You make yourself out to be some kind of martyr when you martyr yourself without anyone else having to do anything. Does it make you feel better? Give you a sense of superiority? Give you a purpose because you don’t even know who you are? Because you’re so codependent you can’t even live without someone to take care of? You can’t even function without your brother.”

“I don’t know.”

“You do know. You just don’t want to admit it.”

And how can I argue with that?

“Yeah, maybe. What does it matter? There’s only three people who will remember any of this. Then it can go back to normal and none of this will have ever happened.” 

Flowy gives me a look.

“What?”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” he says.

“…What the does  **that** mean?”

“You really don’t know? No, I suppose you wouldn’t. You’ve been too wrapped up in yourself.” My soul starts to feel heavy in my chest. I don’t know what he’s implying, but it’s nothing good. “Haven’t you noticed anything  _ weird _ ?”

“Weird how?” He rolls his eyes. 

“You're not that stupid even if you  **are** an idiot. Frisk hasn’t been around. There hasn’t been a reset. The world hasn’t shifted at all. Isn’t that  **strange** to you? That  _ nothing has happened _ ?”

“It’s not the first time Frisk hasn’t shown up or hasn’t done anything for a while.”

“But for this long? They always show up after a couple of weeks. You really don’t feel it? How the world feels different?”

“…What are you saying?” I know what he’s saying. And if that’s true-

“I’m saying that Frisk doesn’t have their powers of time anymore.”

“No,” I immediately deny. “That’s ridiculous-“

“Is it? The universe doesn’t  **appreciate** being twisted around so much. Something has to give. Look at what happened to your father.”

“That was my fault. I screwed up the control panel-“

Flowey lets out a laugh. “You think that matters? You really think he would have succeeded with his multiverse experiments anyways?”

“At least he wouldn’t have died!” I don’t know if he’s really dead or if he’s just. Gone somewhere.

“Don’t make me laugh. It was a better fate for him than what could’ve been. Weren’t you ever scared of him? What if he lost himself even more. What do you think would have happened? Being successful never would have happened anyways. He lost his mind more and more as he messed with time and space. You think there’s no consequences for doing that? Of  _ course _ he disappeared. It’s his own fault.”

My mind runs a mile a minute. If Frisk doesn’t have their powers then that means that everything that happens is permanent. The ending that happens is permanent. No more resets. No more shifting world. I should be happy. I’m not. The complete opposite in fact. That means- that means everyone will remember everything! That means everyone will remember everything. I start to feel an icy stab of fear run through me. That means everyone will remember everything. Oh no. Oh stars.

And for the first since everything has happened this reset, I understand how serious this is.

This is a different game now

I’m good at puzzles

I’m good at playing the game

But I don’t know how to play this game

I don’t know the rules of this game

Where the pieces of this puzzle go

“Papyrus?” My head shoots up and I feel ill. “Papyrus.” He reaches a vine out towards me, but I turn around and run back through the balcony door before slamming and locking it. “Papyrus!”

It’s permanent

It’s permanent

It’s permanent and everyone knows

Everyone’s seen me like this

I can’t go back

I can’t come back from this reset

What do I do…

I slide down the door and stare and stare and stare until my eyes start to burn. I laugh.

My persona is completely ruined. I can’t be Papyrus anymore. I’ve hurt Undyne for the rest of her life. It won’t go away. My other relationships are destroyed. I’m dying. I’m really dying… And I won’t come back. Ever. No one I love who dies will ever come back. I'd never see them again. I stand up and make my way to my room while leaning against the wall. 

I collapse in bed and scream into my pillow. Another piece of me falls away.

I wake up at 10:23 am the next day with my head splitting. I go downstairs and make coffee. Head empty. Not even here. On autopilot and in pain. That I can feel… I should take something. Everything feels cold to the touch. I don’t remember if I have the heat on. Or if it works. Maybe it’s just me. Or the giant hole where a wall should be. That’d do it. I laugh a little. I lay my head on the table. The dog comes over and lays down next to my head. I don’t tell him to get down. He’s been really clingy lately. At least it lightens some of the loneliness…

A couple of days go by. Flowey hasn’t come back. I haven’t heard a peep from anyone. And I feel… unnaturally calm. I shake my head and go downstairs. More coffee, more cigarettes. I’m such a cliché.

I get about three cups in and do a stack of dishes before there’s a loud, heavy knocking at my door. The dog jumps down from where he’s been loyally sitting next to me on the table and barks a couple of times. I sigh and decide to answer it. What else can fucking happen at this point. Maybe it’s Grillby again. At least that would be easy to deal with. I don’t know how much more I can take.

I open the door to a very large owl like monster… Mr. Fitzer? I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him. What is he doing here…

“Mr. Papyrus or Sans Font?”

“You know I’m Papyrus, Oberon.” He hands me an envelope and I look down at it in confusion.

He shakes his feathers a little. He’s never been very comfortable with familiarity. “Yes. Well… Formalities. You know how it is.” I really don’t. “We’ve been trying to get ahold of you for a while. You’ve lapsed on your payments of the house. The bank will want to be foreclosing it by the end of the year.”

“W-Wait. Wait, what? No, that can’t be right! I’ve been paying it off this whole time!” 

“Sir, you haven’t made a payment since last year. Which is very unusual for you. Especially since we haven’t been able to reach you or your brother. It’s a bit concerning…”

I shake my head fiercely. “No, you’re wrong! Wait uh- Wait right here.”

“Sir, are you quite alright-“

“Hang on!”

I scramble to the office already out of breath and rifle through the paperwork. I dig through the folders.

“Dad’s house, dad’s house, dad’s house- here!” I go back to the door and push the folder towards him.

Oberon seems skeptical and opens the folder. He gives me a strange look. 

“Mr. Font, your last payment was a year and a half ago.” He turns a bill towards me and points at the date. I stare at the date. What year is it… It really has been a year and a half. How could I forget… Did I just forget? How could I have forgotten for so long? How did that happen? When did I lose that time? This had to have been before the resets. Before Flowey? I’ve always taken care of that bill. I look over to the mailboxes. Sans’ is stuffed past as always. So’s mine…? How. When did that accumulate? This never happened before. Is it because it’s been so long? Is that it? I never knew about this in any other timeline. Did they just never get the opportunity to seek us out? “…Mr. Font?”

I look up at him blankly and nod. “I understand. Thank you.” I stick out my hand so he can give me the file back and my sweater sleeve pulls, revealing my bandages. He looks as if he wants to ask what happened, but thinks better of it and hands me back the folder. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I’ll be going to back to my morning routines now.” I give him an empty smile.

He nods slowly and turns to leave. He stops at the end of the short walkway and turns around. He looks very concerned. “Mr. Fo-…” he clears his throat. “Mr. Papyrus. Uh, Papyrus. Are you well? You seem very… distressed. And quite possibly ill. It’s not my place, but you have been a longstanding customer along with your father who was a good friend that I had known for many, many years. I mean.” He seems flustered and ruffles his gold and black feathers a bit. They shimmer with blues, purples and greens. Iridescent. They’re beautiful I notice vaguely. “That’s not the  _ only _ reason I ask, mind you. It’s just that we’ve all known you for years. Myself and everyone else at the company. You’ve always been very well put together! It is… a bit alarming.”

I just stand there surprised. And confused. Oberon has never been friendly or unfriendly. Always very… Seemingly detached. But apparently not that detached. I tilt my held a little and he looks more uncomfortable by the second. I don’t even think about what I say next.

“Would you like to come in?” He looks as startled as I feel. Curse my hosting abilities. Damn…  **Why** would I ask that?

“Are you sure, Mr. Font? Perhaps I should come back-“

No. “Fitzer. Yes, I’m positive. You did come all this way after all.” I smile and he nods a little.

“Yes… Alright.”

Oberon follows me into the house, having to duck under the doorway a bit. There’s probably a joke in there somewhere. Owl. Duck. Sans would know.

“Papyrus…”

“The house is a disaster, I know. I apologize. I’ve been… indisposed as you guessed.” Not a lie.

“Right…” We go into the kitchen and I pull out a chair for him. The dog jumps onto his lap as soon as he sits down and he looks immediately distressed.

“Don’t worry. He doesn’t bite. Much.” He let’s out a high pitched hoo. “I’m kidding. Coffee? Tea? Anything?”

“Coffee… would be fine, thank you.” The silence is almost tense as I make another pot.

“So why  _ did _ you come here personally?”

“I’m sorry?” The corners of my mouth twitch.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” I grab two mugs from the cupboard, forgetting that I already have one on the table. I’m so ditzy sometimes. I laugh a little. “I asked why you came here personally.” I pour both of us a cup and sit down.

“Well. As I said, we couldn’t reach you or your brother. By post or by telephone. Looking at your mailboxes, I can see why… Can I ascertain neither of you have a working phone?” I smile again and put my head in my hand. This feels absolutely fucking surreal. Why am I not freaking out? Why did I let him in? Why am I allowing this.

“Right.” He peers down at me and clicks his beak in a tutting sort of manner. “What is going on exactly? Where is your brother? Why do you… Why are you acting this way? You said you’re sick, but… Specifically what kind? I would hate to assume, but. I am familiar with what I think it is. This is certainly not how I’ve ever seen you before.” He tilts his head and gets closer across the table. I go rigid with a smile stuck on my face. “Is that… dust on your sweater?”

I chuckle and lean back. Further away. “Yes. I was dusting. I have to at least try to get the house in order.” We seem to have a silent staring match.

“Papyrus.”

“Everyone seems to be saying that a lot lately.” He clicks his beak again puffs up his chest. Suddenly his eyes go wider after staring into my sockets more. 

“You’re falling down. I’ve been around long enough to recognize it. I can see it in you.” His eyes shimmer. I say nothing and continue to smile at him with a tight smile. God, what is happening.

“…Yes.” I admit. What does it matter who knows. I’m already so far gone.

He seems to become somewhat angry. “And where is your brother? He should  **be** here! He is your family. Is he even aware?” I shrug.

“At the house, I think? I don’t actually know.” My sockets start to feel heavy. “No. He doesn’t know anything.”

“ **Why** ?”

“Why to which part? To answer both questions I’m a horrible monster and he won’t speak to me.” I can’t stop smiling. I can’t stop running my mouth. “I don’t blame him… I really am the worst monster I know.” My head tilts downward slightly and I place a hand over my mouth to hide my grin. This is the worst time for this to happen.

“That is  _ completely _ unacceptable!  **Absolutely not** !” He pulls out a cellphone and I reach out to try to possibly stop him.

“Don’t. Don’t call… he hasn’t. He won’t pick up. I haven’t heard from him in so long. He doesn’t fucking care.” Tears spring to my sockets and I start sniffling, smile still on my face. Oberon looks alarmed.

“I do not know what’s going on between you two, but I assure you that that is  **false** . He’s your family!”

“We haven’t been family in years.” He shakes his head.

“I’m calling.” I lay my head in my arms.

“This isn’t your problem.  _ Why _ do you even  _ care _ . You don’t even know me.” I laugh and clench my fists.

“It’s my problem because I’m  **making** it my problem. I know you. And have always been quite fond of you and your disposition as a monster. And that’s enough. We may not know each other well or maybe not at all, but I am  **not** going to stand by and watch you die! It’s the right thing to do. The honorable thing. The compassionate thing.”

He dials and waits for a few beats. I can hear the error tone. ‘ _ the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected’ _ . 

And it seems to hit me all at once like one of those trains. Like something has been lifted over my sockets. Nothing. Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. He really… His phone is disconnected. I feel so weak. Sans. Sans. Sans is gone forever. Oh my god, he really does hate me. He really does. He actually wants me out if his life forever. I haven’t heard from him in more than two months. He’s never coming back. He really, really is never coming back. I’m never going to see him again. Never… He wants nothing to do with me. Ever again.

I start crying in earnest, laughing and feeling like I’m choking. My last hope for Sans and I dusts and it feels like my soul has completely broken on half. I clutch at my chest and cry harder, grin harder from the pain itself. Through the fog I feel Oberon place a wing around me in what seems like an awkward fashion. 

“It’s okay, Mr. Font. Papyrus. Please… I’m not sure what to do. Oh my.” He strokes my head and back and I just cry. Cry and laugh. Cry and laugh. “I’m sure we can contact him. I’m sure he’s just fine.” I shake my head. Him being fine isn’t my current concern. My magic wants to lash out in my grief, but it’s like I have none left.

I have absolutely nothing left…

**.5/1 HP**

**A dying flame that will soon be snuffed out.**

I have nothing left.

Oberon continues to try and comfort me. And I feel no better for it.


	11. Sans - An Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm scared to get close  
> I hate being alone  
> I long for that feeling to not feel at all  
> I never write, I never call  
> I never think about anyone at all  
> I'm sorry brother  
> Forgive me father  
> I don't know why I am this way  
> I'm lazy, I'm a coward  
> I've been like this since I can remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want everyone to remember that Sans isn't a bad person  
> Neither is Papyrus  
> Or Gaster  
> They all just exist with their flaws and problems  
> People fuck up  
> Shit happens  
> But none of them are inherently bad for it
> 
> also sorry these updates are coming so slow now. I'm just having a hard time getting inspiration I guess? Or maybe motivation to actually write. But I promise I will keep writing this. It just might take a while. This one took a while cause a} motivation and also b} it's a monster chapter

Day One

Sans breathes heavily when he appears in his living room after their fight. He doesn’t know what just happened. He  _ never  _ knows what’s  happenin ’ nowadays! Sans stands there clenching and unclenching his hands with his head spinning. He lost it. He absolutely has lost it. He doesn’t deserve this. ANY of this shit at all! What the fuck did he e v e r do to Papyrus to deserve this! Sans starts tearing the living room apart. Knocking and flipping shit over. Smashing shit against the wall. He punches a hole into the wall and just stands there with his fist in it. Sweat runs down his skull and his hands glow with magic. Sans presses his head against the undamaged part of the wall and stares down at the carpeting. 

A thought comes to his mind. ‘Papyrus dusted me... He  _ killed  _ me!’ It’s jarring to think about. It’s almost incomprehensible for him to think that his brother.  ** Murdered ** him. ‘And for what. For fuckin’ WHAT!’  ‘Cause he was throwin’ a hissy fit? If that had been permanent... Well, he supposes he wouldn’t have minded so much... He’s not actively suicidal, but he surely wouldn’t mind if he disappeared. Papyrus killing him on accident or on purpose is really of no consequence to him. Papyrus killed him either way. 

He killed me

He killed me

He fucking  ** killed  ** me

Don’t think about it.

He crucifies the voice in his head reminding him that he’d never stopped Papyrus’ death before it can dig an icy claw into him and quell his distress. To repress what he knows now. Knows that Papyrus remembers everything. Every reset and every event and every monotonous rerun. And every death. Every death he never stopped. Every death Papyrus  _ allowed to happen _ . And isn’t  ** that  ** a kick to the teeth to think about. Never said a single fucking thing to Sans. Never even ** hinted  ** that anything was ever wrong. He’s a good actor and an even better liar. He’s a damn liar. The biggest liar that Sans has ever met. And fuck everything else he found out about. The depression. Being suicidal. Chipping himself to bits.  **_ Blaming  _ ** Sans for it! And hadn’t Sans done  _ everything  _ he could have for Papyrus. Helping raise themselves. Taking care of him. Working multiple jobs.  _ Lying  _ and  _ suffering  _ always to protect him and take care of him! Doing almost absolutely  ** everything  ** that Papyrus wanted? Just to keep him happy and only later be told that he’s a piece of shit! Well fuck that!  _ And fuck Papyrus _ . 

‘Who the actual fuck does Papyrus think he is! And those  ** lies ** he told about dad?!’ Fuck Papyrus for trying to make him hate dad too! He grabs a couple of old, dusty bag from his closet starts packing up.

“If that’s how he wants it to be then I won’t fuckin’ be around anymore! I'm sick of this!” he shouts before bursting into tears. He’s just so goddamn angry he could burn this whole house down. “He fuckin’ hates me anyway...” Sans wipes his face, but tears keep coming. He doesn’t want to leave. Leave his home. Leave...Papyrus. They’ve never really been apart. Sans just can’t do it anymore. He has to go. Staying here is killing him.

Papyrus will be fine. He always is. Always has been. It’s been made crystal clear that he doesn’t need Sans at all. He’s always gotten on just fine without him. Even with his newly established mental issues. Sans isn’t needed or wanted. So why hang around... If Papyrus hates him so much then why bother staying.

When Sans finally gets all of his stuffed moved to his dad’s house, he supposes he can thank Papyrus for keeping the thing, he takes one last look around their house.

He goes into the kitchen and grabs a sheet of paper from the notepad and a marker. He stomps his way up the stairs sniffling all the while.

** DON’T LOOK  ** ** FOR ME **

Sans slams the note onto his door and disappears for the last time.

Week One

Time seems to move slowly in the stark loneliness of Sans’ childhood home. But no matter just how lonely he is, he refuses to go back home. If it even is home anymore. If it was ever his home in the first place. He huffs as he gets up to make himself breakfast. He didn’t buy much. But he bought enough food to be just fine. It’s a good thing he has extra money right now. He does have a comedian gig coming up at MTT, but he’s not exactly feeling jovial.

“When have I ever,” he mumbles as he cracks an egg into a pan. He does still have his Hot Dog stand and Telescope hustle. He supposes he can go back next week... Sans really doesn’t feel up  to much of anything, though. He’s still broken up and angry and depressed and so many more emotions that he hasn’t felt since all this shit had started. He shakes his head aggressively while throwing in some bacon. 

The entire thing hurts him so goddamn fucking much. Sans doesn’t know if he’s ever been so hurt in his life. He reaches for the bottle of whiskey next to him and takes a swig. At least he can drink out in the open instead of hiding it constantly.

_ What was that about Papyrus  _ _ bein _ _ ’ such a liar? _

He jumps a little. “Shut the fuck up,” he snarls. He can normally ignore the things he hears. And  really it’s not so bad anymore. Except, well... It’s gotten a little worse for a while. Ever since all the stuff started with Papyrus. He’s been out of his medication for a long time. His dad made it specifically for him. Sans could make it if he wanted to. Probably... He was a hand at Chemistry and biology and medicine and, well... The list goes on. But it’s been so long he might actually kill himself if he tried. Sans rolls his eyes. Not that it matters in the long run. He needs a fucking vacation.

_ A permanent one _

He ignores it.

He plates his food, grabs a cup of coffee, “ irish ”, and goes to sit in the living room. He turns on one the many human tapes that were left behind when he and Papyrus left. It’s called Scream. He turns it off as soon as he sees the first kill. And he sits there until his food goes cold and he stops shaking so much. He used to like movies like that. Thought they were fun... He rips the tape out of the VCR and pulls out the ribbons of film reel until it’s spread over the floor. “Fuck...” He lets out a breath he was holding and looks at the cabinet. Maybe... maybe something else.

He grabs a movie called The Princess Bride. “Well... This seems safe...” Sans reheats his food before going back to watch it. He understands everything for the most part. There are still some glaring cultural differences he doesn’t quite get, but, well... It’s better than silence. Sans guesses some noise is better than none. Even with voices that aren’t really there.  Overall, it was an enjoyable movie.

Sans sits there watching tape after tape until he’s too drunk to see straight and passes out stone cold. At least he’ll sleep. 

And that’s how the rest of his week goes. He doesn't go anywhere except to maybe dip into a shop for groceries and then teleport immediately to the  house. For the most part he just stays at home. Watches movies, eats maybe, and getting piss drunk well into the early hours of the morning. “Thanks for the stock of alcohol, dad” He cheers to the void and wishes he wasn’t so alone. He doesn’t like being alone... Even still he won’t answer his phone no matter how many times it rings.

Week Two

It doesn’t go well when he shows up for his comedy gig at the MTT Resort. He’s completely wasted.  Leaning on the microphone stand and slurring all his words.

No one laughs at his jokes. It’s silent and awkward. He leaves the stage halfway through his routine and drops down into a chair in the back. “Fuck...”

“Fuck is right, Darling.” Sans looks up at  Mettaton and frowns. They look a lot different than last time he saw them. A full metal body and everything. They’re certainly designed after a human look. Sans hates it.

“What’re you even  doin ’ here?” He puts his skull in his head.

“Well, I do own this place and I don’t just stay in my rooms all the time. I do traverse the underground sometimes.” They drop down into a chair next to him and cross one leg over the other, arm slung over the back  of the chair.

“Yeah. Right...” He really just wants to lay the hell down in a dark room.

“So, what happened out  there sweetheart? I’ve never seen you bomb so hard! You’re good at what you do. It’s why I hired you in the first place!”

“Hah, not because  Alphys told you to?”  Mettaton gives me a strange look and I turn my gaze back to the floor.

“ Alphys doesn’t tell me what to do. She just made me, is all. You’re avoiding the question.” 

Sans sighs. “Why ask a question you already know the answer to?” They sit in silence for a few moments. Another act has already taken over the stage. He supposes he’ll be fired now.

“Here.” I look up and  Mettaton is holding out an envelope for me.

“The hell is this,” I ask when I reach for it. 

“It’s pay for the next couple of months.”

“I don’t want your fuckin’ charity.”

“And you’re not getting it. It’s called compassion and understanding. Perhaps you should try it sometime.”  Mettaton stands and I frown in their direction. “Or consider it an investment, sweetheart. I don’t really care what you want to call it. Just pull yourself together, darling. I do want you back, after all.” They leave and I continue to sit there for a while, drunk and confused. I grab a  bottle of whiskey from the green room before I go back to the house.

Out of another job. Wonderful. At least he has money to support him. He doesn’t know if he could go to work if he even wanted to.

Do you want to know what the worst thing is? Sans has no family left. His dad is gone. Papyrus is gone.

_ Your fault _

He pours himself another drink. He doesn’t know why he bothers with a glass at this point in his life.

There’s a piercing hurt in his soul and he drops his glass on the floor, shattering it. Sans huffs and clutches at his chest. “What the fuck-?” He pulls his soul out abruptly and looks at it. He furrows his brow. It’s the same as always. Same dull, pulsating blue and yellow. Same cracks filled with DT. Same breaks... He puts his soul away and wonders just what the hell that was.

The first time he checks his phone after leaving it’s flooded with messages and calls. Most of them Papyrus. Some of them everyone else he knows. He opens the first voicemail.

_ “Sans, it’s  _ _ Grillby _ _. Where are you?”  _

[I’m fine. Leave me alone.]  Grillby at least deserves that. He hits send and doesn’t think about it anymore.

_ “Hey, Sans! This is Doggo! We haven’t seen you in a while! Maybe... you could give us a call back?” _

Delete.

**_ “SANS!” _ ** He pulls away from the phone briefly.  **_ “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU! I KNOW YOU’RE NOT AT HOME AND PAPYRUS LIED FOR YOU. CALL. ME. BACK.”  _ ** He looks at his phone in confusion. Papyrus lied for me? He scoffs. Papyrus didn’t lie for me. He lied for himself. Because that’s all he does and all he’s ever done... 

_ That’s all you do. Why are you always such a hypocrite _

He has to protect his image he guesses. What bullshit. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself.

Delete.

Message after message he deletes and he wonders where the messages from Papyrus are. It says he called. Not that he’s at all excited to hear whatever the fuck Papyrus has to scream at him.

_ “H-Hey Sans. Uh... Heh, this is  _ _ Alphys _ _! Um, you p-probably knew that... I just. I haven’t seen you in a long time! I m-miss you. So do-so do the  _ _ amalgimates _ _... Heh, uh. If you get this then give me a ca-call back! Or not, uh... Sans. I really, really hope you’re okay. I’m w-worried. Please call m-me back.”  _ Sans hesitates before hitting delete this time. He feels guilty. 

_ “Sans...” He perks up. That’s Papyrus. He sounds... wrong. “Sans, please. Come home. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Sans. You’re my brother. You’re... I love you.” _

Sans smashes his digit against the delete button. And he does it again and again and again for every message after. He can’t stand the sound of Papyrus’ voice.

“He’s  ** sorry ** ? Nah, he’s not really sorry. But he fuckin’ will be. He hates me? He doesn’t want me around? I’ve never been a brother to him?” He shakes he’s so angry. “Papyrus is goin’ to get exactly what he wanted.”

_ Fuck  _ Papyrus. He can be as miserable as he wants to be. It’s his own fucking fault. Sans doesn’t even look at the texts. He doesn’t listen to the rest of the voicemails. He turns his phone blue and smashes it against the kitchen counter as hard as he can. It almost seems to disintegrate. The counter has surely received enough damage. “Guess I can’t use that counter anymore.”

_ So violent. Are you sure you’re not becoming just like  _ _ Chara _

_ Just what you said you’d never be _

_ What you tried so hard to repress _

He ignores it, but it makes him grit his teeth a little.

At least he won’t be bothered.

_ But I thought you were lonely _

He grabs a bottle of gin.

Week Three

Sans is drunk constantly. Uncoordinated. His hands won’t work half the time and he’s always on the verge of passing out. He’s always late to his own jobs if he even bothers to go 90% of the time and can barely function. Everyone gives him strange looks when they come by. He hasn’t seen anyone he knows come by. Then again, his dossier of friends is pretty much limited to  Snowdin anymore. Which he refuses to think about let alone be near. He used to have more friends... Back when things were better than now even if they were still shitty a lot of the time. He directs his gaze towards his childhood bedroom. The door is still taken off the hinges from when...

Sans stokes the fire again. His father had lost his absolute mind when it happened. So had his brother. He’s not sure if he really ever felt sorry for it. If he could go back and change it he wouldn’t have tried killing himself at home... 

_ This is it. This is the last time I’m going to feel like this. The last time I see shadows move. The last time I hallucinate. The last time I hear things screaming at me.  _

_ Dad and Papyrus are gone. Dad’s at work. Papyrus is with  _ _ Undyne _ _. They’ve been gone for hours. They’ll be gone for more. He waited and waited and waited until he was sure they wouldn’t be coming home any time soon. This is it. And it should be enough time. _

_ Voices clamber at Sans from every angle as he sits on the floor of his room. _

_ Do it _

_ Don't do it _

_ Call your dad _

_ Call your brother _

_ Go find them _

_ Go find anyone _

_ Kill yourself as violently as possible _

_ Leave a mess _

_ Hurt them _

_ “SHUT UP!” He digs his fingers into the side of his skull until he draws dust and marrow. “Shut up...” His sockets flood with tears and he makes his way to his Dad’s study. Pen and paper, pen and paper. Sans shakily writes a short note. Nothing fancy. No prose. It would be ridiculous and a waste of time. _

**_ I’m so fucking sorry _ **

**_ This isn’t the fault of either of you _ **

**_ I’m sorry I never said anything _ **

**_ About how bad it all really was _ **

**_ I love you both _ **

_ No signature needed. He takes the note and shoves it in his pocket. Standing before the door of Dad’s home lab he punches in the code. He sticks the note to the front of the door. He stopped crying in the middle of writing his... suicide note. Sans really was never much a crier. He feels so... Away from it all. Like he’s moving in slow motion. It’s like his mind has ground to a screeching halt. The door slides open with a single alarm and he slowly walks inside. The door shuts behind him again. He smashes in the internal code pad with his magic and the resounding noise the lab door makes is screeching and whirring until it stops working completely with a few stray sparks of electricity. It falls quiet. No way of getting in or out for anyone else. _

_ Unbeknownst to Sans an alarm sounds from far away in Hotland. _

_ You don’t have to do this _

_ I have to do this _

_ The chemical cabinet stands before him. Inviting. Tall and sleek. Sans walks across the short room with heavy footsteps. No ritual. Nothing pretty and meaningful. Grab the flask and die. Sans isn’t one for poeticism anyways.  _

_ There’s a lock on the door. Sans rips the doors off and flings them into a wall, crumpling it. Reaching into the cabinet with an unsteady hand he grabs the Compound.  _ C4H4O2-RTA. A form of cure coded Alpha  J07BL _. Made by his dad attempting to cure a sickness. It only half worked with some unfortunate side effects. While he eventually made a working cure, we kept the original for research purposes. And by research purposes he means making it deadlier as a potential biological weapon against humans. And now I’m glad we did keep it. The death could take hours. Or minutes... He can’t remember. But this is the deadliest thing in here. Everything else is at the  _ _ Hotland _ _ lab. Sans wishes he would have thought this through a little more. He should have waited to grab something guaranteed instantaneous, but, well... Sans really was only ever book smart. Not like his brother Papyrus. He was smart in ways that mattered. Smart about life and living. Someone who’d never be lonely because he knows how to be around monsters. How to make them comfortable and not be an unstable freak around them... How to take care of himself. _

_ Good thing I don’t plan on being awake for this either way. He grabs the chloroform from underneath the three bay sink. He’s not really a fan of excruciating pain in any context. He’d like it as peaceful as possible for himself thank you very much.  _

_ Sans pauses and stands stock still, however. He’s nervous suddenly. What if it doesn’t work? He knows the lasting effects of this poisonous experiment. He stares down at the deep blue, sludge like liquid in the flask. What if he survives and has to live with the consequences for the rest of his  _ _ life. _ _ That would, quit honestly, be a fate worse than death. Something rushes past his vision and he almost drops the flask. A shadow figure is standing in front of him. Tall and sharp with wide eyes. Almost a solid and almost a mist. Shifting. It almost looks recognizable as someone he knows. He doesn’t think about it. They’re never real. They’re not real. It’s just a manifestation of his chemically imbalanced brain. Despite that... Even after so long these things still frighten him. _

_ Do you really think this is what you should do _

_ Sans tilts his head and frowns. “ _ _ Of course _ _ it is. Why wouldn’t it be?” He wishes he sounded more confident. Another shadow rises from next to his feet. _

_ You sound so nervous though _

_ “Well, yeah,” he deadpans. “I’m tryin’ to fuckin’ end my life.” And then another one pops up. “Potentially painfully.” _

_ But why _

_ You have such a good life _

_ Your family loves you _

_ You have everything you could want _

_ “Except for mental stability,” he mumbles. _

_ It’s really so bad for you _

_ So bad that you would hurt your family like this _

_ Your friends _

_ Your potential _

_ “...My potential. My  _ **_ potential _ ** _. Potential, potential, potential!” He gestures wildly at one of the shadows. “That’s all I ever AM to everyone! Next Royal Scientist! The  _ **_ potential _ ** _ ,” he shouts desperately, almost spitting the word. “To be greater than even my dad! That’s ALL I ever hear!” Sans kicks a cart next to him and it tumbles over, breaking beakers and other equipment. “I already get worked to death by my dad! I can’t remember the last time we actually did  _ _ somethin _ _ ’ other than study, test and work! That’s my whole life! Eat, work, study, medical tests, repeat! And maybe I can get some sleep every  _ _ couple’a _ _ days when I’m not  _ _ bein _ _ ’ kept awake for hours on fuckin’ end! I can’t even do  _ _ anythin _ _ ’ when I’m actually home  _ _ ‘cause _ _ I’m just passing out all the time and dad makes me stay in bed anyways!” He kicks the cart again. “Fuck!” Sans starts pacing the length of the room. “I’m  _ **_ tired _ ** _! I’m sick of all of this! I’m sick of  _ _ bein _ _ ’ sick! I’m sick of not  _ _ havin _ _ ’ a life! I’m sick of  _ _ tryin _ _ ’ to figure out what’s wrong with me! I’m sick of  _ _ existin _ _ ’!” He screams. Sans looks up from the floor. He’s alone again.  _

_ He has so many regrets in his short life. So many  _ _ should’a _ _ ,  _ _ would’a _ _ , could’a’s... It’s too late to dwell. He should’ve thought of it while he was alive. He glances at the picture frame on his dad’s desk. All three of them. Smiling. So happy... Sans has to avert his gaze quickly. “I’m not much to miss anyways.” _

_ “This is what’s best.” He whispers an “I’m tired...” before looking at the flask again. Sans takes deep breaths until he’s calm and still once again. I’m already committed. No turning back. He uncorks the flash and it feels like the floor drops down beneath him as he tosses back the concoction. He can barely swallow the thick, tar-like liquid. He gags and almost calls off the whole thing from the molten fire that’s starting inside of him. He breathes erratically and almost starts to panic. Chloroform, chloroform... Sans’ vision tilts violently as he turns around. His stomach feels like it bottoms out and he turns cold while a sharp feeling runs across his nervous system. He stumbles back until he crashes over the overturned cart. He lays on the floor, unable to move. His limbs feel like they’re weighed down completely. His mind feels hollowed out. Tears flood his eyes while his insides feel like they’re turning into liquid. He wants to scream from the pain, but the most he can do is let out this gurgling croaking noise. It hurts. It hurts  _ _ s o _ _ bad. Worse than he could have imagined. He tries so hard to move. To crawl over to where he left the chloroform, but it’s useless. He’s going to die in excruciating pain. Awake for it all. He chokes out a laugh. _

_ Fuckin’ idiot... _

_ He doesn’t know how long he’s been laying there trying to scream, but only unintelligible whines and gurgling coming out. _

_ There’s suddenly a pounding on the lab door and the intercom crackles to life. _

_ “SANS! THIS ISN’T FUNNY!” Papyrus. He wasn’t supposed to be home yet. Everything feels like it’s spinning around him and it won’t stop. He wants to throw up more than before. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS NOTE? WHAT’S THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN!?” Papyrus never swears he notes in the back of his mind. “S-SANS! I KNOW YOU LIKE TO PLAY JOKES BUT THIS ISN’T OKAY!” Sans almost feels like getting help, but it’s too late anyways. “LET ME IN OR I’M TELLING DAD!”  _ _ So _ _ tell him... It doesn’t matter. He’s not sure if he feels regretful or  _ _ happy _ _ he’s dying. He’s definitely regretting how much it fucking hurts. He honestly wishes he’d die already so he can stop feeling it. He feels something wet dripping out of his mouth. His hand flops against his face and slides against the liquid when his lifts it too  _ _ see _ _ what it is. He glances down with fuzzy, triple vision. It’s dark. Black. Almost sticky. His insides rebel and he  _ _ starts _ _ vomiting up a tar-like substance. He’s on his back and chokes on it, tears sliding down his face. He’s going to suffocate on his own vomit. Which is the worse way to go? _

_ “Papyrus?” ...Dad? Why is he here?  _ _ Sans _ _ breath starts to quicken in dread. He didn’t want anyone to find him until after it was over. He can hardly think now. Black is starting to peak at the edges of his sockets. _

_ “DAD! SOMETHING’S WRONG! SANS-” Papyrus is crying. He’s scared. Sans feel bad about it. He doesn’t want him to cry over it. He’s not even a good brother. He’s not a good fucking anything. He’s still aspirating. Going numb. He’s so fucking terrified. It’s what he wanted, but he’s so scared.  _

_ “I know. Stand back.” How does he know? Sans sockets shut completely as the doors break apart. Guess he was wrong about no one being able to get in. The sound of feet rush over me and someone drops next to me. He can’t open my sockets to look. His gasping is less harsh now and he’s choking quietly. Sans is drowning is chemicals and his own blood and plasma and magic. He wants nothing more than it to end. This feels like an eternity. He really should have waited to get something else. Every thought he has is spread thin in his mind. He hardly has a grasp on them. They flow like water and disappear like smoke. His thoughts feel like  _ _ echoes _ _. He’s so terrified and that’s what’s at the forefront of his mind. _

_ He gets turned on his side and feels a sharp sting of magic inside of him. It feels like his dad’s magic. But even his dad isn’t brilliant enough to reverse something like this. _

_ It sounds like Papyrus is sobbing. Quietly. Everything is muffled. He thinks Papyrus grabs his hand. He can’t exactly tell. He can’t feel much of anything except the unending inferno in me. Like he’s melting from the inside out. _

_ “D-Dad, dad is he-” _

_ “Not now.” Sans starts shaking violently. Siezing. “No, no  _ _ no _ _ -”  _ And that’s when he passes out.

He looks away from the door and stares at the fireplace. He lived. Obviously. And god was everything fucking terrible. If he thought he didn’t have privacy before what happened after was next level. His door was ripped off the hinges. Sans was never allowed to be alone. Or work in the lab by himself. It was completely suffocating. And it wasn’t what he needed. He resents his dad for it... As much as he hates saying it. Sans doesn’t want to disrespect him even if he’s not here anymore. He tried his best. He did his best to help his son. He just... Didn’t know enough. Maybe he should have gotten Sans a real therapist. But no one can take care of his kids as well as he can, he would say. He wished he would have asked him what he needed. Would have asked him what would have helped him instead of experimenting medically to figure out what would help him. And all these years later Sans still doesn’t know if that was a good thing or not... He still doesn’t amount to anything. He’s still a terrible brother according to Papyrus. He’s still nothing worth having. That much is clear... Honestly Sans just wishes he would have died back then. Everything probably would have been better.

Papyrus would have been all alone. But maybe that would have been better for him than having to take care of him constantly. Sans scoffs. He didn’t even need to. He did it for himself. But at the same time... It felt good to have someone care about him so much. Maybe he took advantage of it. He doesn’t know. 

Sans really does wonder what would have happened if everything had happened differently.

He relights the fire and stares at it for a long minute. Sans get an inkling of a thought.

What if it didn’t have to happen? What if... What if dad had never disappeared. That’s when everything went completely sideways. That was the beginning of everything terrible that happened. Sans stands up.

“I can fix everything.” He has a manic grin on his face as he teleports to his dad’s real lab.

Week Four

The anomaly is gone according to one of his dad’s scanners. Frisk is gone. Or hiding. Or something happened. Sans can’t focus on it right now. He should probably be upset. Or at least concerned about them, but, well, he’s not in all actuality. Resets mess with your feelings. Messes with your head and mind. If this was under normal circumstances he’d probably care more. But it’s not so he doesn’t. He doesn’t even remember the last time he and Frisk were actually friends and not just two individuals with coinciding goals. He says that Frisk is fine and probably laying low and doesn’t think about it again. And if they don’t have power over the universe anymore? He’s all the happier for it. That means all of this work won’t go to waste. And everything he’s doing to do won’t be meaningless. It’s been an eternity since he’s felt this way. Hopeful maybe. But not quite. Excited doesn’t sound right either. Well. Whatever it is it feels almost nice. He doesn’t want it to go away.

Sans has hardly cleaned up the lab while he started working. There’s no point in it.  There’s things destroyed. Still blown up. Things are still covered in ash and a blackish goo, but it’s fine. Most of it he doesn’t even need. He’s too focused to care. He only fixes what he needs to. He doesn’t go back home even once after he gets there. This is the only things that matters. He’s tired of letting other people take the reins. He can do this. He knows he can. He’s his father’s son, after all. Then everything will be fine. Him and Papyrus can be happy again. Even though he’s still fucking furious at him he still wants him to be happy. And he’s not. He’s fucking miserable and Sans can’t help him. But maybe dad can. And dad can prove to Papyrus that he never really meant any of that and he just let it go to his head and nest there. Dad never would have hurt him like that. Papyrus just got confused. That’s all. That’s not how dad was.

“If  ya want anything done right  ya gotta do it yourself.” Besides, he doesn’t even know where Frisk has gone. If anywhere. He just hopes Frisk doesn’t reset at all if they even still can. He’d lose all this work and he doesn’t know if he’d be able to start again.

But he’s determined. 

He supposes he can thank his dad for having it in him.

Week Five

It’s difficult. Some of it he can’t figure out because his dad’s writing is one: horrendous and two: convoluted and mixed together as fuck. Some of these notes don’t go together. Or are for other projects that he doesn’t know about. Or maybe they’re related to each other? He can hardly discern anything from them.  So he picks out the engineering parts and the formulas and does his best. It’s rough going. He’s drinking as much as ever, but he works through the haze of drunkenness. At least until he passes out anyways. Then it’s back to the grind.

This would go a lot easier if he had his dad’s computer. His dad always organized everything he wrote on it. He’d be able to see all of his logs and ideas and everything else. Fuck. Where the fuck is it?

He grabs another beer and goes into the room his dad used try to fix him in. He doesn’t want to call it what it is. What happened...

A lot of it would hurt. But it wasn’t to hurt him. He knew it was to try and prevent him from dying at the smallest thing. He hated every fucking second of it.

He  hops up on the examination table and lays back. He pulls drinks from his beer and looks into the dull overhead light.

_ “Hey, dad.” He squirms uncomfortably and grips the edges of the examination table. _

_ “Yeah, Sans?” He watches his dad fill a syringe with a glowing red liquid. DT.  _

_ “Is... Is this  _ _ goin _ _ ’ to hurt?” He smiles at me in a sad manner and comes over to lay me back. _

_ “Yes. It will. I’m sorry, but you know it’s necessary. I have to.” He places a strap across my chest and fastens it. Then another across my thighs. “I don’t want it to hurt you, Sans. I just want you to get better.” _

_ “I know... I know you don’t.” I close my sockets and try to relax. But sometimes I feel like it’s not worth it. Just something else Sans can’t say to him. They’ve never done this experiment, er... Treatment before. His dad had talked about it, but always said it was too dangerous. But Sans’ health has been severely declining recently. His dad and brother are terrified. Sans isn’t that worried, but that’s another thing he can’t say. “I know you’re  _ _ tryin _ _ ’.” Dad kisses his forehead before grabbing the syringe and bringing it back over. _

_ “I know you know. I love you, kid.” He places the needle in the crook of his arm. _

He misses he dad. Even if he couldn’t stand him sometimes... He still loved him. Loves him. His dad never abused him. Never hurt him on purpose. He was a good monster. A wonderful dad. He always did his best for them. It pisses him off Papyrus would say anything that terrible about him. Especially since he knows what a liar he is now.

He ignores a small part of him that’s doubtful of his conviction. 

He knows who his dad was.

_ But you never knew who Papyrus is _

He just takes another sip from his can.

Week Six

All Sans has done is work. Work and drink. He rarely sleeps and only eats when he can’t stand the hunger anymore. The only thing he’s focused on is fixing the machine that took his dad away. And consequently his brother. He just has to figure it out. He almost wants to give up. But he can’t. He has to fix this bullshit machine.

Then everything will be right again. Papyrus won’t hate me. We can be an actual family.

He still struggles with the machine, but he’s feels like he’s getting somewhere. Wherever that is... He doesn’t know. He really wishes he had that computer. He wishes Papyrus was here. He... He misses him terribly. It hurts how much he misses him. They’ve never been apart for so long and  honestly he feels lost without him. He still wakes up concerned that Papyrus didn’t come get him up, but then he remembers. Sans left. For the better, right?

He goes to fuse two wires together and the electrical shock that explodes from them burns his arm. “Fuck!” He runs over to the supplies cabinet and yanks the door open. After he takes care of his  burn he puts the rest of his bandages away. He looks up and a thick rectangular shape next to the beakers catches his eye. “...The fuck is that.” He stands on his tip toes and almost barely grabs the shape. He stumbles when he pulls it down. “No way.” He  open it up. It’s his dad’s computer. “What the fuck was it  doin ’ in there?” Sans excitedly takes it over to dad’s desk in the back of the room and plugs it in. A  blue light flickers on and he opens it.

He presses the power button and it slowly comes to life. Sans enters the password and grins. This is the best thing that’s happened in weeks. Fuck stopping for the day. He has more work to do.

Week Seven

Sans is so close to fixing the machine that he can feel it. He works even harder on it. He has a goal. He can do it. He knows he can. He just keeps telling himself that once his dad comes back that everything will be okay.

Sans mumbles to himself as he fixes another control panel. He swears and looks over his dad’s computer notes again. Sans groans and pulls his goggles off. “Shit. I need another micro transistor.”

He’s having to go through all the sections of the lab and through all of the equipment to find everything he needs. It’s a good thing it’s all still here. He completely avoids the chemical storage. He doesn’t want to think about all that. Sans trips over nothing and catches himself on the wall railing. He probably drank too much today. Which would... be a lot. He’s used to drinking so much. Just another reason why Papyrus hates him probably. It hurts so much to think about him. He sits on the floor for a while until everything stops moving so much. 

He really shouldn’t be getting as drunk as he does  working on shit like this. But he’d never really been that smart. He could probably kill himself doing it.

He guesses he wouldn’t hate it so much.

He shakes his head and stands back up. “Stop  thinkin ’ that shit. You’re  gonna get dad. You’ll get Papyrus back. Everything will be good again. You’re past all that.”

The machine is smoking by the time Sans gets back to the room. “ Goddamnit !” He races over to it and starts pulling things apart.

Week Eight

Or 

Well, you done fucked up buddy, eh?

Sans grins manically and fuses the last few wires  before shoving the box back in place.

“This is it! This is it. It’s  gonna work.” Sans runs behind the glass to the control panel and sets it up. “Just like before,” he mumbles to himself. Same panel. Same setup. Same everything. Have to turn the keys at the same time. He pulls down the power switch and everything lights up like it’s supposed to. Gears start whirring and he checks over the data one more time before actually trying to start it up.

“Okay, okay, okay.” He runs back out to the floor and to the machine. He places one hand on the key and turns the other behind the safety glass blue. 

Honestly? It should probably be the opposite. He should really be behind the safety glass instead,  but, you know...

“Three...” He takes a deep breath. “Two...” He’s so nervous. “ _ One _ !” He turns the keys  simultaneously and-

Nothing.

Nothing happened.

“ _ What _ .” He turns them again and again. The most he gets is small gear noises and flickering lights. “No. What the  ** FUCK ** !” He checks over the entire machine and control panel. He’s astounded. Flabbergasted. Beyond disappointed. Nothing’s wrong with it. He did  _ everything  _ right!  **_ Everything _ ** ! Sans drops to his knees and puts his skull in his hands.

“How did this happen... I did everything I was supposed to. So  _ how _ ?” He slowly stands back up and rubs his face. “I don’t know what happened. How did I fuck it up?” He rubs his eyes. He’s not fucking crying.

_ You’re just not as smart as you thought _

_ Definitely _ _ not as smart as your dad _

_ Everyone was wrong about you _

_ The only person who was right about you was you _

_ And Papyrus _

_ “Stars, shut  _ **_ UP _ ** !” Sans groans and makes his way back to the control panel. “Why’d I ever think this would work... Damnit!” He slams his hand against some of the buttons and proceeds to rips his dad’s computer off of the port where it’s plugged in, shorting the electronics before storming back to his dad’s office.

Lights start flashing and gears starts spinning in the lab.

Sans almost slams the computer on the desk before dropping down in the chair. He had to have gone wrong somewhere. Or-or there was something missing. Anything to explain this! He didn’t stay up for days on end and working himself to exhaustion for a month for this to not work!

“This is such bullshit,” he grumbles. Well, the work logs and notes were already scoured. He starts clicking through the other folders. Some of  it’s professional or inconsequential. Some of  it’s personal. He almost doesn’t go through those, but... They might have something in them. Sans clicks through what seems to be a personal journal or something. Most of it are things he already knows or was there for. Some of it’s a little concerning to his father’s mental state. And those ones just seem to get worse the more time he spends working in the labs. He mostly skims. He doesn’t want to think about his dad being in so much duress. He knew the experiments were hard on him, but he guesses he never knew how much they actually affected him. Especially when he was working on the machine. Those he skims over. Maybe he should’ve started at the beginning.

He goes back to the beginning of building the machine. When it was just an idea. There’s not so much information there for him to find use of. Just old schematics and possibilities. Old formulas. Stress. So much stress. Talking about home. About Sans. He goes and goes until he reaches about a month before they actually used the machine. He stops short when he sees something with Papyrus’ name in it.

[Log: 4.5675.993]

[Date: 11/26/19XX]

Papyrus

My dear son,

  * I’m so sorry. I’m writing this in the hopes that I get to say all of this to you. To get my thoughts together. I feel like the world has been ripped out from underneath me. I’m heartbroken. I never thought that you would have even been in circumstances like you are. And... I’m so sorry. I honestly can’t fucking say it enough. I don’t know where I went wrong. I thought I had done a good job at raising you both. That I had done enough. My best. But my best wasn’t good enough. I know I focus on Sans a lot, but I know he’s sick. He was always so close to dying. I knew he inherited his instability from me. I didn’t know it had cursed you as well. I never even noticed. I should have. I should have noticed something was wrong. I never even looked twice. You always acted so fine. Rarely complained. Acted like you were happy and everything was always so okay while you were suffering all the while. You must have thought I didn’t care. I suppose I can’t blame you for that. Stars, I feel so turned around. I don’t know what to do. I found your journals. That’s why I’m writing all of this. This. Confession. Apology. I don’t know what it is. I wasn’t trying to go through your room. I was looking for my sweater you were wearing the day before. I opened your closet and they all tumbled out onto the floor. I shouldn’t have read them, but I’m glad I did. Do you really think I hate you? That I think you’re stupid? The things you wrote... I knew I wasn’t always so put together or kind, but I never knew it would have such an impact on you. I never meant to hurt you. I suppose I had unintentionally made you a target under my emotional bullshit. I can’t apologize enough. I never even noticed I was doing it. Being under stress and pulled in so many directions isn’t an excuse for it. I know. I hardly know what to write here. Truly. Maybe this will all be easier to say to you face to face. I promise, I promise I’ll talk to you after the machine is done. I promise, I’m just so close to finishing it. I know you’ll be okay until then. You’re the opposite of Sans. You’re not one to give up on anything. Not even your fool of a father. You still love me even though I’ve neglected you for so long. I never meant to. I don’t know what I can do to make it right. But I can try. That’s all anyone can ever do. I wish you had told me. I wish a lot of things. I have to stop writing this before I break down completely. I promise I’ll fix this, Papyrus. I will. I’m not going to forget about you. I love you. Don’t give up yet.



Sans stares in shock. He... He doesn’t even know what to feel. All of that stuff Papyrus had said... He was telling the truth. He can’t- no-

He teleports to dad’s house and immediately runs into Papyrus’ room and tears open the closet door. Boxes and notebooks fall out of it. Sans is almost hyperventilating when he picks on up at random. There’s thick dust on them from sitting there for years.

  * 4/4/19XX



They forgot about my birthday again. They had some big important thing to do, I guess. They never tell me what it is. Probably because I’m stupid. I’m really trying to not cry. I’m too old to be crying. Especially over something I’m used to. It’s fine. I’ll buy myself a cake later or something. Or watch tv... Maybe I’ll just go to bed early.

  * 6/23/19XX



Dad asked me why I can’t do anything right. I was too sad to get out of bed and didn’t do any chores while dad was gone. I didn’t know what to tell him. I wish I could stop being a disappointment. I wish I didn’t have to hate myself. I wish my dad loved me.

  * 12/25/19XX



Dad and Sans were gone before I got up. If they ever even came home yesterday. Maybe they went to pick up a gift or something. I don’t want to spend  Gyftmas alone. I’m always alone. Why do I always have to be alone.

  * 1/12/19XX



I hurt myself. On purpose... It made me feel better for a minute. I’m not going to tell anyone. It feels like something I should keep to myself, but I don’t know why. 

  * 9/29/19XX



Dad got so mad at me I was scared he was going to hurt me for a minute. I know he wouldn’t. But I was scared he was going to. I just couldn’t help it. I was so upset at having to do all the chores and Sans never helping. And it’s not like dad does anything either. Dad hasn’t talked to me in a couple days. I wish I knew why I’m like this. I don’t want him to hate me. Why can’t I ever just shut the fuck up. I wish I knew how to answer dad for that one. I know I’m annoying.

  * 3/13/19XX



Sans never wants to play with me. Or do anything with me. Even when he’s not sleeping. I’ve thought about telling him about how sad I am all the time. About hurting myself. But he’d just ignore me. It’s not a big deal anyways. I’ve been doing it more. I like it.

  * 7/17/19XX



I thought about dying. I’ve never thought about that before. It scared me a little. But it didn’t really upset me. I wouldn’t mind not existing anymore. I wouldn’t be sad anymore, right? Nobody would miss me anyways. Maybe  Undyne would. I don’t know. I don't know if we’re actually friends or not. I haven’t had a friend before. No one at school likes me. I’m so alone. I wouldn’t be alone if I... died. I wouldn’t feel anything anymore.

Journal after journal and long entry after long entry. He can’t read the entries all the way through. It hurts too much. There’s rarely anything happy as he sits there for hours reading them. He can’t even get through them all. They’re too much. Some of the pages are stained. And not with ink. Sans thinks he could throw up.

Papyrus didn’t lie to him. Everything he said about how dad treated him. Even if it wasn’t on purpose...

He was wrong. Papyrus opened his heart to him. Exposed himself and Sans...

Sans has to go home. Now.

He teleports away just as a siren blares and the door of a machine opens in an abandoned lab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tune in next time and leave me a comment  
> I love hearing from yall


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